


A Season of Loving You

by Speary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Sexual Situations, Barber!Cas, Christmas, Dad!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Interrupting Sam, M/M, POV First Person, SPN Holiday Mixtape, Thanksgiving, dad!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:52:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: It started in the holiday season. First there was Thanksgiving then Christmas to sink into. Really though it began before the presents and holiday food were set out for one and all. It began when Dean sat on his fire escape and looked down at the street below. It began when Cas decided that he needed to wear a kilt in public. It began when Dean saw him then and wanted to see more. It began with the subtle changing of the seasons, and it would continue ever after.





	1. Dean's June

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my lovely artist Dreym who is clever and creative. I'm so glad that she wanted to work with me. You can check out the masterpost of the art [here](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/post/168268752139/my-entry-for-the-second-holiday-mixtape-this-is)
> 
> Thanks also to my lovely betas Liz and Adriane.
> 
> And many, many thanks to Muse for running this challenge. You are the best!
> 
> Lastly, I must say thank you to the inspiration for this piece. A few months ago, my friend Naomi shared a tweet about a guy that went to a barber. The barber tugged his hair a little and he moaned. He said he'd never be able to go back. I took this little story and I ran with it, tossing in a dash of holiday feels with it. So, thanks Naomi:)

 

It began the day I saw him walking down the street in a kilt. Yeah, an actual kilt, and we aren't in Scotland, and he's not Scottish. Didn't know that at the time, I just knew that if anyone could rock a kilt like that, well, I maybe needed to meet him. Alex would say it didn’t begin there. She’d take credit for pointing him out when he was running in the summer with his way too tiny jogging shorts. That moment certainly stands out, his thighs especially. He had intense muscles there, clearly visible from my fire escape. 

 

Alex might have a point. I mean if we’re looking for where this all began though, we might as well keep on going back. I mean, we could just as easily say that it all began when Mrs. Mondragon decided to retire and let her antique store get some new occupants. Alex and I had this conversation, and she didn’t exactly disagree. Instead she said, “Well if we go down that rabbit hole, it really began when Mr. Taylor there started getting super busy and Mrs. Mondragon decided she didn’t like the smell of eggs.”

 

Mr. Taylor ran the restaurant next door. The smells of breakfast pumping from his popular restaurant always coaxed me out of bed on the weekends. Mrs. Mondragon was crazy, but you won’t hear me complaining about her choices. After all, it is what got things started.

 

Once Alex and I agreed on that point, we were able to sit on the fire escape in peace, her eating salty french fries from a greasy fast food bag while I finished off my well-earned beer. It was 11 am, and Alex eating french fries and me having a beer was the way we typically celebrated the start of the weekend. It became a tradition for us years ago. It was when we’d talk, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about the big things that plagued us. Today was part of that tradition but different too in all of the best ways.

 

“We could also say that it started when Jody took you and Sam in after your parents died. You wouldn’t likely have chosen to live here if she hadn’t started making her place into some sort of home for the wayward youth around here.” Alex looked like she was trying to be sensitive. It was never easy talking about my mom and dad and losing them.

 

Once again, though, she was right. I had all sorts of thoughts on how I was going to get my GED, and with a give ‘em hell attitude, I was going to get custody of Sam. They’d separated us at first, Sam went to one foster home, and I got shoehorned into another. A whole lot would be different if Jody hadn’t stepped in, seen Sam and I as worthy of her time. She was a school resource officer at my high school, and we’d already had a number of interactions.

 

What she saw in me would never be clear. I was a mess, always in trouble. She saw something though, and despite being in a bad place herself having lost her own family, she made a new one with us. She got Sam off to college and even got me into some community college courses. So giving her some credit for beginning things seems only fair. After all, if it wasn't  for her, I wouldn’t have my pseudo daughter.

 

“You gonna eat all of those fries?” Alex looked like she wanted to say yes, but she handed them to me just the same. Whoever invented salty french fries is a god.

 

“So you agree it began with Jody?” Alex asked.

 

“Maybe.” I could be difficult when I wanted to be, and it was fun to just mess with Alex. She might not be my kid, but when she came to live with Jody, I couldn’t help but take a shine to her. We were way too similar. We both had a love for fast, classic cars, breaking rules, and romantic interests that were not exactly typical. “We could also say it all began with the guy who invented the kilt.”

 

“Pffft,” Alex snatched back the bag of greasy fries. “Gross.”

 

“What?”

 

Alex just rolled her eyes. “You think I don’t know why you like the kilt so much. You know that dudes don’t wear underwear when they wear those things right?”

 

“I’ve been told.” I was ready to take a different path in this conversation. 

 

“Gross.”

 

“So, we could say that it all began when some little amoeba crawled up out of the muck and decided to go human.”

 

Alex laughed. “Or when some angel decided not to step on the amoeba.” 

 

“I like that picture. Let’s agree that it all began then. Less kilts and such in this origin story, but okay.”

 

“Dean,” Alex smiled. “Thanks for letting me be a part of all of this.” She waved her hands around, signifying everything, as if there was a universe in which I would exclude her from this.

 

I loved her. She couldn’t be anymore family if I’d been her real father instead of some schlub that met her when she was eleven and miserable. Family is more than blood. It’s the way you love. And she was everything. “I wouldn’t want to do any of this without you. Best pseudo daughter ever!” I hugged her, and maybe she’d get it that she mattered to me a great deal more than she ever seemed to give herself credit for. 


	2. Dean's November

“We gonna catch a movie later?” Alex asked from her spot on the fire escape. I slid down next to her and drank from the bottle of fizzy water she brought me. She said I was getting a beer gut. I’m not, but she wanted me to be healthier, so there’s that.

 

“Sure, anything in particular you want to see?” She was smiling in that mischievous way that she always does before she brings up something uncomfortable.

 

“There’s Mr. Hair.” She pointed.

 

I did not want to give her the satisfaction of looking, but I couldn’t keep from turning. And good goddamn. He was wearing cargo shorts in November. Yeah, California didn’t actually get the concept of seasons, but it wasn’t exactly warm out. I was wearing a jacket and so was Alex. Three steps behind him was a blonde girl, about Alex’s age. “And there’s Miss Hair.”

 

Alex gave my shoulder a little punch. “Looks like we’re both getting a good show today.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 

“You know,” she smirked and continued, “I get to check out my eye candy and you get to check out yours.” She picked up her bottle of fizzy water and clinked it with mine. 

 

“You’re ridiculous. I couldn’t care less about the Hair family.”

 

“Ha, liar. You get all smiley every time you see him.” She slugged me again. “Admit it.”

 

“I couldn’t care less.” I was a liar. She rolled her eyes and looked annoyed with me. “He is attractive.” I could give her that much.

 

“Ha, I’m right. You are interested. You should totally get your hair done. It’s getting long after all.” She looked absolutely triumphant, like I’d actually agreed to doing this. “And while you’re there, you can get their names so we don’t keep on calling them Mr. Hair and Miss Hair.”

 

“So you want to use me to get intel on Miss Hair then? I see now.”

 

“Of course I do. She’s attractive and clearly my type.” 

 

“Clearly. Remind me what you even know about her.” 

 

We both took a few moments to just stare down into the salon that Mr. and Miss Hair went into. I had a theory that Mr. Hair was the owner. He was certainly there often enough. Miss Hair was his daughter, had to be with how they acted with each other. “Look at how they are together, Dean. They are so much like us.” Mr. Hair was ruffling Miss Hair’s head. She was clearly giving him an earful about it a moment later. Poor Mr. Hair looked a little repentant.

 

“She could be his girlfriend.”

 

“Ew, no way Jose. Don’t be gross.”

 

“Yeah, no way. She’s definitely his daughter, which makes ya kinda wonder where Mrs. Hair is in all of this.” I had wondered about that a lot at the time. Kept thinking that at some point some gorgeous woman would roll up to the shop in heels with perfect hair. She’d fall into his arms and he’d kiss her all the way back into the brick wall of the salon. It wasn’t a comfortable thought though. It was the kind of jealous thinking that bugged me way more than I’d care to admit even now.

 

“Maybe she’s adopted. Maybe he doesn’t like women like that. Maybe he’s single and looking to mingle with other single dad types.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, and it was funny. 

 

“If only I knew someone in need of a trim that could go do some recon for me.” I regretted it the moment I said it, but I was really thinking of her, sort of. I wanted her to head down to the salon and have the meet cute with the blonde so things could stop being so hypothetical. And if it led to meeting the guy then that would be okay too.

 

Alex popped up right away. “I’m on this.” She was in the house before I could stop her. “I’m gonna get one of those braids like he gives her all the time. They’re so intricate.”

 

“What are you going to say though?” There was a tiny knot of fear growing up in my stomach. She could say so many things. 

 

“Clearly, I’m going to tell him about how you creeper watch him from the fire escape nearly every morning as he strolls into work. I’m totally going to add that you are so looking for a good time, and I’ll end by slipping him your number.” She was pleased with herself. Her half grin burst and became full fledged laughing. “You okay? You look sick.”

 

“Why do I like you?”

 

“I’m adorable. Or at least I was when I was a kid, and now you’re stuck with me.” She hugged me and practically skipped out the door. Now all I could do was wait for the fallout. I took my chances and went back to the fire escape. It was nice out there. The street below was a hipster paradise, complete with thrift stores, and a number of eclectic restaurants. There were two coffee places that faced each other right next to the train tracks. Around the corner was the pub that I worked at part time. The rest of my time was spent down the street working at Bobby’s Body Shop. 

 

Alex was in the salon. I could see her just past the logo for the place, Halos and Horns. It was a cute logo. There was an angel gently trimming hair on one side, while on the other there was a devil swirling someone’s hair in a pitchfork like one would swirl spaghetti. Miss Hair was off the salon chair and leaning into the corner. Alex was in the chair now and seemingly chatting away. God what could she be saying. Mr. Hair looked happy though, and began working her hair. His lips moved occasionally, so he was seemingly participating in the conversation. 

 

After a time, Alex motioned toward me, like she wanted to show where she spent part of her time. Shit. They all looked. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t awkward at all the way I practically fell over, then stumbled up so that I could go back into the apartment. She’d be back soon, and I’d likely never hear the end of it. 

 

I put the time to use. I pulled out some boxes of mac-n-cheese. I started boiling water and watched it intensely like I needed to get it going faster. What did she say? I’d never be able to sit on the fire escape again. I’d likely have to move to another state. I thought all of that and nearly didn’t hear her walk back in. 

 

“So her name is Claire, and she’s not his daughter.” I turned to her and let the water boil behind me. “She’s his niece.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“That’s it. You don’t want to know his name?”

 

“I suppose if you want to share it. I mean we have been calling him Mr. Hair for a long time now. Dude probably deserves a name.” I was really going for casual. Alex knew me too well though.

 

“Well, if you really don’t care. I don’t want to take away the mystery.” She came up to my side and took over the simple cooking. She started humming and stirring the pasta. She seemed in no great hurry to tell me anything else.

 

“So the braid looks nice.”

 

“It does, doesn’t it?” She gave me a little knowing smile. “You look nervous. You nervous?”

 

“No, why would I be nervous?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe because you saw me pointing at you a little. I bet you’re wondering what sorts of things I told them.”

 

I did not want to let her win. “I’m sure you just wanted to show him where you spend half your time. You probably pointed toward Jody’s place too.”

 

“I didn’t. I was pointing at you.”

 

Shit. “Why?”

 

“Thought you didn’t want to know things.” She was grinning at the pasta. She casually reached up and turned down the temperature. 

 

“Well, you just said you were pointing at me. Seemed reasonable to ask why. Clearly, you want to talk about it.”

 

“I don’t. I just thought you looked curious.” She lifted the pot and took it to the sink to drain it. “So you aren’t curious?”

 

“Nope.” I was dying.

 

“Not even a little?” I needed to know everything.

 

“Not even a little.” I’m the worst liar ever.

 

“Well, okay then. Let me know if you change your mind.” I don’t know why I even tried to pretend, but I did, for hours. We ate our stupid mac-n-cheese dinner and watched some movie on the TV. I even got all the way to bed before it made me actually angry. This was one of the nights she stayed with me instead of going back home to Jody’s. She’d long since gone off to her bedroom. She was likely asleep. I was just tossing and turning. I did not like losing. Still, it was going to bug me to not know.

 

I got up and stormed down the hall to her room. I gave the door a brisk knock. “Alex?” I felt a little guilty bugging her.

 

“Come in.” She was on her computer in bed. “Thought you were asleep.”

 

“You win. Tell me everything.” She just laughed, but thankfully she also told me everything.

 


	3. Cas' November

The air was crisp. When would I learn to actually wear sensible clothes in winter? I’ve got enough coats. Maybe the day it stopped having a noticeable effect on some people. “Hurry up. We’re gonna be late.”

 

“You own the place. Not like it matters when we show up.” Claire was way too chipper. She was a morning person. Probably came from the way she was raised. Her mom and dad were morning people.

 

“Yeah, well I’m cold.”

 

“Shoulda thought of that when you were getting dressed this morning.” She caught up with me at the corner, despite the fact that she was not at all interested in speed or prompt arrivals. 

 

“I have a lot to think about.”

 

“Well, maybe Jack got in already. And maybe he’ll get the heat pumping.” She put her hand on my back as we waited for the light to signal us back to walking. She was warm. 

 

“Jack is not there yet. You and I both know that. He’s more of a dawdler than you.”

 

“Dawdler,” she snorted as she laughed out the word. “He left hours ago though. Pretty sure he’s there.”

 

“I’ll bet you he’s not.” I’d win this one. If I knew anyone, I knew Jack. 

 

“He may be your son, but he’s my cousin, and I know he’s there.”

 

“Okay, if he’s there, you win the bet.”

 

“What’s the stakes, gramps?” She elbowed me a little with her sad attempt at humor. It reminded me of Jimmy. He was always calling me names that were variations on old. I was born a miniscule amount of time before him, and despite being twins, he viewed it as divine intervention. He’d get to be the much put upon younger sibling with an overbearing older, he’d say much older, brother. Claire picked up on it, and she kept up the tradition even after he died.

 

“If he’s there, you wave at the girl you’ve been making moon eyes at for the past month.”

 

“I so have not.” She laughed and elbowed me again just to make the point. “It’s you that’s been all moony over the guy that sits with her.”

 

“There’s a guy that sits with her? Hadn’t noticed.” I was an exceptional liar. 

 

She was side-eyeing me now, but I did not let on that I had noticed anyone on that fire escape but the girl, Claire’s fixation. “I’ll wave,” she said.

 

“Good. ‘Bout time you made some sort of effort.”

 

“And if you lose, you wave or make some sort of actual contact with him.”

 

“Not sure I know who you’re talking about, but I’m sure you’ll direct my attention when the time comes.” We finally rounded the corner to the row of shops on our street. Halos and Horns was just a few doors down. The name was another tribute to an old family joke. Jimmy had said he was the angel while I was a little devil with a God complex. He meant it to be funny.

 

I dug into my pocket for the keys, but Claire just reached past me and pushed open the unlocked door. “Did I forget to lock it?” 

 

She laughed again. “Nope. I win.”

 

Jack was in the salon, tidying up his station, big gummy smile on his face. “Hello father.” He was always formal. “Claire.”

 

“You could have turned the heater on. Pops is freezing.” Claire pointed at me and made her way to my station.

 

“You should have worn sensible pants. It is November after all.” Jack made his way to the thermostat anyway. 

 

“Why you here so early?” I asked.

 

“I've got an appointment showing up in a half hour. Also, by no stretch of the imagination is it early. It’s eleven.” He waved a hand at me and asked, “Why are you wearing shorts?”

 

“I'm in denial. It's still summer.” Claire and Jack both laughed at me. There was something a little beautiful about that sound. I was lucky to call them mine. “Now hop up into the chair. I'll get you braided and send you on your way. The weekend awaits after all.”

 

Claire said, “I won, by the way. You get to wave at the guy now. Or blow him a kiss. He's on his perch.”

 

“You never said I had to do it right away.” I ruffled up her hair just to distract her. It always worked. It irritated her, which is funny, because I literally fix her hair right back up.

 

Jack's appointment came in and was going to get one of those shaves that Jack is just good at. He could pretty much make any shape appear in the customer’s hair as if he was some sort of magician or something. It was an art. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I worked on the intricate braid that I decided upon for Claire's hair today.

 

The door chime alerted us to a walk in. “I'll be right with you.”

 

“No hurries.” 

 

I looked over Claire's hair and gave her the pat that said, all done. She just stared back at me, a stunned look on her face. I couldn't read her. She was doing the eye thing where she was trying to tell me something without words. “Are you going to get up today?”

 

She groaned, but she got up. She parked herself in the corner instead of leaving, which was weird. I beckoned the customer over. Oh, that explained everything. Claire's fixation, right here in front of her.

 

Claire was doing her best to look casual. I could see through it. “So, what am I doing for you?” I lifted her hair, weighed it a little, and considered styles she hadn't asked for yet.

 

“I'd like a trim, and…” She paused like she was uncomfortable or something.

 

“And?” I prompted.

 

“A braid like hers.” She motioned toward Claire.

 

“Easy. Been doing Claire's braids for ages.”

 

“What made you ask for a braid?” Claire asked.

 

The girl looked around her for a moment then said, “Been meaning to come in forever.” I laid the drape over her. “My pseudo dad and I hang out on his fire escape.” She pointed out the window. I followed her motion and saw the man stumble back through his window.

 

It was difficult not to laugh. It was the same thing he did when I wore the kilt. It was a gift from Jack, so it had to be worn in public at least once as an acknowledgement of sorts. Still I'd been tempted to wear it again just to see if he was just clumsy or...

 

“Pops, she's talking to you,” Claire snapped me back into a type of focus.

 

“Sorry, you were saying?”

 

“Alex, here, was just saying she wants to make an appointment for her pseudo dad.” And then Claire winked. Little shit.

 

“Alex?”

 

“Her name.” Claire pointed at her and continued. “Geesh, you really weren't listening.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

Alex said, “It's fine. I was just thinking, if you have room in your schedule, maybe Dean could get a trim. His hair's getting just a bit long.”

 

“Dean?”

 

Alex just wrinkled up her nose a little and said, “Yeah, my pseudo dad.”

 

“Pseudo Dad?”

 

“God, Pops. Pay attention.”

 

“I’m sorry, it’s just not a term I’m familiar with.” I decided to start trimming her hair despite the confusion. 

 

“He’s not my bio dad. My parents died when I was young. Luckily, Jody Mills,” she tipped her head back and I had to angle her back into place, “she took me in.”

 

“Mills. Why do I know that name?” Claire asked.

 

Alex kept moving, which made trimming her hair difficult. “She’s the sheriff now. Awhile back, she was the school resource officer over at the high school.”

 

I asked, “So is your pseudo dad married to her?”

 

“Oh no.” Alex was quick to respond. “Jody was like a mom to him. Plus, I think Dean’s looking for someone a little less female this time around.”

 

“Oh.” I had no clue how to respond to that.

 

“Dean is bi. He just doesn’t seem to be looking for a woman at present. It seems like all the people he notes as interesting have been dudes. I’m looking for someone nice for him to date, settle down with. Guy seems to be taking forever trying to find someone on his own.” She finally paused for a breath. Then she dove back in, because apparently silence was not something to enjoy. “You know any single guys I can set him up with?” She was looking at Claire.

 

And of course Claire shot a very pointed glance at me, because loyalty is apparently something we needed to talk about in this family. “Father is single,” Jack shared from across the room. Of course. Clearly, I needed to talk to both of them.

 

“You have a customer. Stop shouting over into our conversation,” I hollered back.

 

“You are though,” Jack added needlessly.

 

“I am, and I’m quite content with my current situation. You two take up plenty of my time and so does this business.” I said what I needed to say, and now this conversation could move into more comfortable places, hopefully.

 

Claire laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Alex. He’s absolutely single and has plenty of time on his hands.” Then she actually looked at me and added, “Dad, you should get his number.”

 

“Why is this my life?”

 

“You love it.” Claire came over and kissed my cheek. I finished trimming Alex’s hair. Thankfully the conversation died for a bit. I considered her hair for a moment. I could do the same kind of braid as Claire’s but decided on something a little different instead. 

 

“So, can I send Dean over for a haircut today?”

 

I was not going to meet him with my kids snickering in each corner. Not to mention, the comments they’d likely make. Even Jack had turned traitorous. Must've been something in his biology, because I certainly raised him right. And Claire, more like her dad every day. I should talk to Amelia about Claire respecting her elders or something. They were all looking at me like I’d missed a question or something. “What?”

 

Claire rolled her eyes and said, “Dean. Can you give him a haircut today?”

 

“I’m pretty sure, Alex took my last free slot for today.” Thankfully, I had a customer on the books who should be showing up soon. I could absolutely squeeze Dean in later, but Jack would be here, so a strong no.

 

Claire raised a brow. “Seriously? You can’t just get him in like late or something.” I couldn’t just say no. I couldn’t back this up. And Jack was already setting down his tools like he was going to go check the books. Shit.

 

“I’ve got tons of time tomorrow though.” Jack went back to work on his customer. Claire looked smug. Why did she look like that? It was not a big deal. Seriously.

 

“On Sunday?” Oh, that’s why. “On your day off?” She could've stopped. “You’d come in when you're closed, open up, just for one guy? Wow, Pops.” Then she smiled and hollered over to Jack, “You hearing this, Jack? Pops is going to open up his shop on Sunday for fire escape guy.”

 

“He’s single,” Jack hollered back. They hated me. That was the only explanation. And now Alex was laughing and getting up from the chair. I guessed I was done braiding her hair. I hadn’t noticed that I’d finished as I was too busy getting treated like the world’s biggest loser. When did it become socially acceptable for children to set up their parents or pseudo parents any way? This was the stuff of bad Hallmark Channel movies or something. Well, it was November. All we needed now is a tiny child to walk into the salon claiming that someone had just arrested Santa or some crazy thing like that. Then shenanigans. I’m exhausted.

 

I walked over to the booking station and rang up Alex. “That’ll be twenty-five.” She paid and tipped me a five. “Thanks for coming in. Claire and I can now refer to you guys by names and not just Fire Escape Guy and Girl.

 

Alex looked at me funny. “We called you Mr. Hair and her Miss Hair. We assumed she was your daughter.”

 

Claire came over then. “Funny.” She was smiling more than she ever normally smiled. “He kinda slipped into that role when my dad died. Suppose I coulda called him my uncle since that’s what he is, but Pops just seemed fine too.”

 

“Guess pseudo dads are on fleek.” They both stared at me like I’d grown an extra head. I’d heard Claire say it at some point. I was pretty sure, I had the lingo right.

 

“No, Pops, just no.” Alex was laughing now too. Claire continued, “Use phrases from your era, you know dinosaur words.”

 

“Well I tried.”

 

Claire hugged me and said, patronizingly, “Yes, you did. Good job trying.” Then she let me go.

 

“Well, I’ll see ya around, and I’ll send Dean in tomorrow.” She smiled and gave them a little wave as she headed out the door. 

 

As soon as the door closed, I asked Claire, “So, are you really going to let her leave without giving her your number or something?”

 

“Wow, you think I’m that easy?” Claire was staring out the door at Alex’s retreating form though.

 

“Yeah, go after her.”

 

“You’re right,” Claire laughed and dashed out the door.

 

Jack called over from his station. “So you finally get to meet Fire Escape Guy.” I turned to him and watched him brush hair off of the customer’s drape. “It’ll be good for you to get out of your dating slump.”

 

“I’m cutting his hair. It’s not a date.” I went back to my station to clean up. “Just glad you and Claire won’t be here to make it awkward.”

 

“Maybe I should come in and work just a little. We could always use a few more bucks.” I turned just in time to see Jack grinning as he waved the customer over to the counter to pay up. 

 

“Jack, I have so many things to say. You’re lucky you have a customer.”

 

The guy laughed. “Don’t hold back on my account. This has been the most entertaining haircut I’ve gotten in awhile.” He laughed again, paid, and went out the door. 

 

Jack was still grinning at me, clearly enjoying all of this. “Shut it, Jack. I don’t need this.” I busied myself and got through the day. Dean didn’t appear on the fire escape again. It was a shame. It was nice having something pleasant to look at the end of the day. It was also probably a good thing he didn’t, because Jack would likely have something to say about it. Tomorrow was going to be awkward enough without the  running commentary of children. It would be hard enough having that attractive man sitting at his station. Then it hit me a little that I'd have to touch him as I cut his hair. My hands shook a little at my sides. I'll have less than twenty-four hours to get myself in check.


	4. Dean's November

Alex was way too happy about the arrangements that she’d made. I was prepared for the appointment, but not for the news that she’d maybe talked about me and my interest in the hot barber. “Look, Dean, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. You just go in for your tiny trim, exchange digits, and the rest is happily ever after.”

 

“Alex, I maybe kinda hate you right now.” I was pacing about in her little room. 

 

“Lies, you love me.” She set the laptop on her nightstand and tucked her legs up under her. She patted the side of the bed so I sat. “It wasn’t as bad as you think. His kids were teasing him, but he doesn’t have to know that you know any of that.” 

 

“You clearly overshared with him though. It's going to be seven types of obvious when I go in. How do I even face him?” I raked a hand back up into my hair. I felt jittery.

 

“Dean.” Alex set a hand on my knee which should have been a comforting move. “I swear I didn't say anything major. I told them you were single, and his kids volunteered him as tribute. They were totally on board with Cas meeting you. I didn't say anything about you sitting out there checking him out like a creeper.”

 

“I don't check him out like a creeper.” I got up and moved off to the door. It was late after all.

 

“You'll still go in and get your haircut right? You do need a little trim.”

 

“I really don't.” I could let it go another month easy.

 

“He's coming in on his day off. You can't leave him hanging.”

 

There was no getting out of this. I pressed my head into the door frame. “Fine.” I looked back at her. “I'm gonna regret this.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning, Alex made me some breakfast, which wasn't unusual, but she was way too chipper about it. She maybe even sang while she bustled about the kitchen. When it was time for me to go, Alex all but pushed, me out the door.

 

“Be calm. Breathe,” I whispered to myself as I walked down the stairs. It could be okay. He could just view this as a legitimate haircut and not some sort of set up. “God, this is the worst.”

 

I could see Cas in the shop as I approached. He was busying himself, sweeping the place. I walked in and he looked up from his task. He seemed nervous. “Hello, Dean.”

 

His voice was so many layers of deep. It sent little pin pricks over my skin. I wanted to hear more. I moved to him and held out a hand. “And you're Cas.” We shook. “Nice to meet ya.” 

 

Introductions done, things became awkward as silence stretched and Cas stared. “You don't look like you need a haircut.” He walked around me. “A shave maybe, but your hair isn't that long.”

 

“Alex was overzealous. She thinks it's too long.” I felt like he saw through the explanation completely so I added, “teenagers,” in that put upon way that parents do when commiserating with other parents.

 

Cas laughed and said, “I know just what you mean.” He waved over to the station by the window. As I started to pass he set a hand on the back of my head. It was warm. It startled me. “You have some product in your hair.” I did. I did what I always did before going out to meet someone. I got myself all polished up. Didn’t occur to me that I maybe needed to let my hair be a little natural.

 

“Yeah, force of habit.” I glanced at him with a smirk. Looking casual might just work in my favor right now.

 

“Well, can’t cut it like that. Come on over to the sink and let me wash it out.” He motioned to the other side of the room where two big bowled sinks sat. I wandered over and he followed. He waved me into the seat. It was always a little awkward getting one’s head into the weird salon sinks. He draped one of those barber capes over me, and turned on the water. He didn’t rinse off my hair right away. He sounded like he was just letting it run. “Too hot?” Hot damn, yes he was. Oh, he was talking about the water.

 

“It’s fine.” You’re fine. God, stop. I closed my eyes as the water washed over my scalp. His fingers scrubbed at my head. It was seven kinds of awesome. There was shampoo too. It smelled oakey. He took his time, and it was fine by me. I kept my eyes closed, but it felt like he was close, or I just wanted that to be reality or something. It was soothing in a way that would have put me to sleep if it weren’t for all my nervousness at his proximity. 

 

It was over too soon. He shut off the water and gave my shoulder a pat. “Okay, up an at ‘em.” I sat up and he wrapped a towel around my head. “Actually, stay here a moment, while I dry off your hair.” He rubbed the towel into my hair a little and got the excess water out. Then he tossed the towel into the sink. “You’re good now. Head over to my station by the window.” I totally knew where his station was. Been watching him work there now for months. Practically the highlight of my day, but of course, he didn’t know that.

 

I made my way there while he straightened up the sink area a little. I watched him walk over. He was tall, maybe just a bit shorter than I am, but tall. His hair was a mess of dark brown all wild like he’d just woken up. It was styled like that though. There was product in it. His eyes too, those were the kinds of eyes that a person could get lost in. And though I’d noticed before, his legs were more than impressive on their own. He was a runner, and it showed in his calves. I realized as he stood next to me that my once over was maybe very obvious. Shit.

 

He just smiled. It was a knowing smile though. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m too old for this sort of thing. I could feel the heat in my face, which was a sure sign that I was blushing like a damn schoolgirl, and he was still just smiling at me. I had to say something. “So, Alex tells me you kinda have two kids.”

 

Cas seemed to blanch a little. “Uh, yes. My niece Claire and my son Jack were here the other day. She met them.” He seemed nervous as he spoke. He got to work on lathering up my face. “I’m gonna shave you first then spend about thirty seconds pretending to cut your hair.” Cas looked at me sideways.

 

“Pretending?”

 

“The amount I’ll likely trim will be miniscule, but we have an audience so I need to make a show of it.”

 

I watched his eyes dart to the window, like he was trying to subtly direct me. I glanced out the window and saw nothing. “Hate to say this, Cas, but I think you might be seeing things.”

 

“Don’t talk while I shave you. I don’t want to cut you.” He started running the straight razor over a leather strap just like the old west barbers had. I loved a good western. There was something particularly attractive about him in this moment. “Don’t make it obvious, but if you can see your balcony, you’ll see our audience.” He knew where my balcony was. He’s seen me up there. Shit, what else has he seen?

 

I did glance up to the balcony though, and of course, Alex was there with a plate balanced on her knees. “She’s not alone.”

 

“Yep, that’d be my Claire keeping her company. Really, don’t talk while I shave you. Gonna start now.” I focused on him for a moment, then the feel of his hand on my head. He proceeded to drag the razor over my cheek. The sound of the shave was louder in my head than it likely was in the room. It was something new to focus on though.

 

He was close, practically breathing the same air. My arms were beneath the cape thing, and I gripped the armrests. I was glad he couldn’t see me doing that as I felt that it would make me seem nervous. I wasn’t nervous, not really. He moved around to the other side. He adjusted his hand on my head, his fingers ran along my scalp. If he just squeezed his fingers together a little he could give my hair a little tug. Not sure why I thought of that, but I guess that’s what I wanted. The universe did not disappoint.

 

I closed my eyes. It was too hard watching him work from up close. He was all focus, but I was falling apart. I could feel the blood rushing south, and I was pretty sure my breathing was spasming out. Damn it. Eyes closed, check. Breathing slowed, almost check. Boner Town, still a problem. It would have been fine, but he started talking again in that criminally low voice of his.

 

The ripples of his words, every low timbre rushed over me. God it was bad. “Do you intend to say anything to Alex about this when you return?”

 

I opened my eyes. He’d said not to talk while he shaved me. He seemed to realize and lifted the razor from my face. “I don’t know what I’d say. I tend to ignore her when she tries to make things awkward. Lord knows I can be awkward enough all on my own.”

 

He tipped his head a little to the side. He was appraising me it seemed. His eyes darted down to my lips, then the rest of me before sweeping back up. “I might say something to Claire.” He licked his lips.

 

“What’ll you say?” I licked my lips too in the moment. It was a mistake that led to me getting a bit of shaving cream in my mouth. “Yuck.”

 

“Here, stick out your tongue.” He reached back and grabbed a wet towel from the sink ledge. I stuck my tongue out. He wiped the towel over it. The taste went away. “It happens.” He smiled. “As to what I’ll say, I don’t know. She and Jack meddle. I should have said something before.”

 

“Is she meddling now?” Dean glanced at the window and toward them. They had binoculars now. He laughed. “Oh dear.”

 

“Yeah, she’s definitely meddling. Yours is too, it seems.”

 

“Well, maybe not meddling as much as being weird.” Dean stopped looking up at the balcony.

 

“Oh, there’s meddling in this. I guarantee you that when she comes home, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Cas became a bit awkward then. “Well, I best be finishing your shave.” He moved back to me and got his hand back into my hair. He finished off the sideburns and under my nose. He was close again, and there was silence enough for me to contemplate his words. His kids were pestering him, about me. They thought he was attracted to me, or could be. This was good. This was promising.

 

I just needed to keep from acting like an idiot. The universe had other plans, and really, fuck the universe for being an asshole. He was so close and goddamnit he smelled like that oakey shampoo, and he had a little stubble on his jaw. I was utterly transfixed. I had so many thoughts. Him shoving me back and kissing me into this chair was the most PG of them. He squeezed his fingers together in my hair and pulled my head back a little so that he could shave the underside of my chin and neck.

 

 

I wasn’t thinking, at least not about anything that I should have been in the moment. So, when he gave my hair that little tug, I let out a little whimper, or if I’m being generous with myself, it was a manly groan. Either way, it was audible. He blanched, but being the professional that he is, he just kept on shaving me. I made things awkward. There was no escape from this moment. He was rushing through the rest of the shave. It wasn’t as slow as it had been. I was a little grateful.

 

I wondered if I should be apologizing, or if I should make a joke of it. Instead, I just went with silence. He used a warm towel on my face and a little aftershave splash that smelled good. He snagged some scissors from his station and moved back to my side. He moved his hand through my hair again, but he didn’t tug at it much. I, for my part, kept some semblance of control. I could hear the snipping sound of the scissors, but there wasn’t much hair. 

 

“You should let it grow out a little longer before getting it cut,” he said.

 

I found my voice. “Yeah. I’ll tell Alex not to be so pushy next time.” I smiled, and he smiled back. Maybe all wasn’t lost. He looked away out the window. He put the scissors back on his station. He moved to my back and undid the cape. 

 

“You approve of the cut and shave?” He was looking at me in the mirror. He was right behind me, hands on my shoulders. The image was searing itself into my mind for later.

 

“It looks great.” I glanced up at him directly. “Thanks, Cas.”

 

“You’re welcome, Dean.” He gave me the pat that said  _ We’re done now. _ I followed him to the register. He seemed to be stalling. Maybe he was still uncomfortable from before. Shit. 

 

I decided to help a little. “So how much do I owe ya?”

 

“I’m not sure. I mean…” He wasn’t making eye contact. I messed things up. That was all I could think in the moment. He went on though. “I mean, you didn’t really get a haircut, and the shave was my idea. I feel like I’m charging you for things you didn’t ask for. I mean…” He trailed off again.

 

“How much do you normally charge for a wash and a shave?” I leaned against the counter, trying to look casual, but my heart was beating a million miles a second, and he looked cute like this, all flustered and stuff.

 

“Well, a shave is $25 and I usually just throw in the wash stuff if a customer needs it. You didn’t want a shave though.”

 

“Look, you cleaned me up good, and you put up with my pseudo daughter yesterday. So, by my reckoning, I owe you about $40.” I slapped two twenties on the counter.

 

He started shaking his head. “That’s way too much. I was thinking I wouldn’t charge you. Now you want to overpay?”

 

I decided that was how it was going to be, so I stepped away from the counter, leaving the money where it was. “Thanks for the shave, Cas.” I backed to the door and nearly tripped over a little end table that was off to the side. Not my most graceful exit. He gave me a little wave though. I smiled back and went out the door. It wasn’t until I was in the street that I realized how colossally I’d fucked things up.

 

I groaned. I overpaid. I didn’t talk to him about anything of substance. In the end, I was pretty sure that I’d missed and messed up some big time opportunities. And now there was Alex and Claire in the apartment to deal with. I didn’t go back right away. I couldn’t face them. Besides, the pub was around the corner. I would get a beer, nurse my worries, and then go home.


	5. Cas' November

He didn’t give me his number. He didn’t even seem to consider giving me his number. He liked the shave. Maybe he just wanted a shave and a cut. Maybe he didn’t know how much the kids were meddling. I mean, we almost talked about it. Maybe he overpaid because he felt bad for me. Well, that just felt all sorts of wrong. It’s likely though.

 

I went home feeling a touch irritated with myself and the situation as a whole. Here I was handed an opportunity, and I made it weird. It was always like that. Claire was always telling me how I get too quiet, too awkward. I let moments last too long, and I stare when I should be looking away. I stared at Dean. I’m pretty sure he noticed. How could he not have noticed? He was gorgeous though, and there was no looking away. Wasn’t even a little possible. He was maybe the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. 

 

And he left. Not even giving me a  _ See you around _ as he headed out the door. That would have been something. What was it Alex had said? Something about him looking for a man this time. Well, maybe he wasn’t looking for a man or anything. Maybe kids shouldn’t be meddling. I was suddenly feeling a bit more irritated than I probably should have. I thought the house was empty as I slammed the door closed behind me.

 

“You home already?” Jack called out from the kitchen. I couldn’t see him, but I could smell the dinner he was making.

 

“Yeah.” I stalked off to my room for a moment to change shirts. There were little hairs in the shirt, Dean’s hair. I needed to wear something else.

 

I made my way back to the kitchen and took a seat on the stool looking across the counter. Jack was dicing onions, a little tear was making a trail down his cheek. “How’d it go?” he asked.

 

“How’d what go?” I wasn’t getting into this with him.

 

“You know, the haircut.” He looked up and wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

“Fine.” I looked off at the window over the sink, hoping I could just float away through it. 

 

Jack took the onions to a large pot on the stove. He dumped them in, and the sizzling of them was a lovely sort of music. “Did you ask him to dinner?” 

 

“I just cut his hair and gave him a shave.” I drummed the counter to distract myself. Jack was watching me.

 

“I thought the point was to meet him and ask him out.”

 

“The point was that he needed a shave and a cut. I provided that.”

 

“On your day off, on the most sacred of days.” He was smiling. It was my fault really. I’d spent the last so many years telling him that there had to be just one day that we didn’t work so that we could relax and spend time together. I actually said it was a sacred day, and now all that was coming back to bite me in the ass.

 

“Look, it was just business.” I got off the stool and rounded the kitchen counter to get a beer from the fridge. I’d earned it after all.

 

“So you didn’t think he was attractive from up close?” I froze up with my head in the fridge. I grabbed the bottle though and tried to school my features into something that wouldn’t reveal the truth.

 

“No, it wasn’t about that though.” I leaned into the counter and popped the cap off of the bottle. I looked for something to do that could help the dinner preparations along. Really, I just needed a distraction.

 

“Wasn’t it?” Well, guess we’re not moving off of this track.

 

“It wasn’t.”

 

“Dad,” Jack sounded serious. I glanced at him. I’d been looking at the beer in my hands before. “You should pursue this.”

 

“Just because two people are single, it doesn’t mean they have to date. He seemed like a nice guy. I cut his hair, he paid his bill, I watched him go. End of transaction.”

 

Jack had his hand on my shoulder like he was trying to comfort me or something. I didn’t think I sounded sad, but maybe I did. “Dad,” he said, his tone all pity and kindness. “You deserve to be happy. You throw so much of yourself into everyone else, from helping to raise Claire, to adopting me. Hell, I don’t think you know how to do something for just you.”

 

“Doing what I’ve done for you and Claire was entirely selfish. I got a ton back from knowing you two.” Jack’s hand squeezed my shoulder, and he didn’t look any less sad. “Stop.”

 

He quirked up a brow. “Stop what?”

 

“Stop feeling sorry for me. I’m happy damn it.” I took my beer and started to leave the kitchen. I didn’t really have anywhere to go though. It was a small apartment with two bedrooms and a kitchen/dining room/living room. I could go to my room, but that felt odd, especially with a beer. Well, it was my house. I started to move off to the bedroom.

 

“I don’t feel sorry for you most days. I just think you’re making a mistake. You’ve been ogling that guy since we first moved into the shop. You’ve been making all sorts of totally subtle comments day in and day out. I’ve pretended, and Claire’s pretended to not have a clue, but seriously, you like him. You need to try just a tiny bit more.” This was a lot coming from Jack. He was normally all clipped sentences and formality. 

 

My shoulders sagged in defeat. I looked at him. “I blew that opportunity.”

 

He patted the seat at the counter, so I sat. “Tell me what happened. I’m better at listening than I am at talking, so let’s try that.”

 

And because he smiled all gummy like he did, I told him about the day, the missed opportunity, and how I likely wouldn’t get another shot.

 

* * *

 

 

Three days passed, and Claire was back in our orbit. Her mom was heading out of town on business per usual, and she needed a place to crash. She could have stayed at her home, but she wasn’t fond of the idea. It had been like this ever since Jimmy had died. The nightmares that plagued her were more intense when Amelia had to travel. So it became a habit all those years ago for her to just couch surf here. Jack had tried to give up his room for her, but she didn’t want that. She was quite happy with the pull-out bed, ‘thank you very much.’

 

We all had our patterns, the things that made us comfortable. And even I was guilty of getting too comfortable with the same old routines. It had become easy to just live for the kids, but like Jack had said, he wasn’t exactly a kid anymore. He was twenty now, and considering a transfer into a four year college. I’d be dealing with an empty nest soon enough. Even Claire was in her senior year now. She’d likely fly off to some far flung region to start fresh too.

 

It was hard not to feel a bittersweet twist in my gut just thinking about it. It was hard to imagine that all this change would happen while I was just standing still. Claire made Jack go out for a walk with her in the evening, and he likely caught her up on all of the happenings of the last couple of days. He also, likely, didn’t keep anything that I had told him to himself. Claire for her part, likely told him all about her own observations from Dean’s balcony.

 

Which reminded me that I had my own prying to do. I’d been wondering how she was getting along with Alex.

 

Then they were back, and all peaceful thoughts of prying and empty nesting scattered to the four corners of the world. “You didn’t even get his number.” So much for hellos.

 

“I see Jack has been catching you up,” I said as I went into the kitchen to reload on coffee. Thankfully, she’d be heading off to school soon, and this conversation had a natural cut-off.

 

“Yeah, well, I gotta get my information from somewhere.” She stood in the kitchen entryway, hands on her hips, all judgement written plain on her face. Jack came in and closed the front door that she had left open. “Seriously, Pops. You had one job.”

 

“To cut his hair. I know. I even gave him a bonus wash and shave too.” I sipped from the coffee and figured I could drag this out. It was 7:30 and she’d be out the door in fifteen at the latest.

 

“You’re ridiculous. We handed him to you on a silver platter. Do you just not like him?”

 

She looked frustrated. I leaned back against the counter. “I did my job. I don’t know what more you wanted from me.” I knew. I was just being difficult. It was easier that way.

 

“Jack said you thought you missed your shot.” She took a step closer, a look of sympathy taking over her features.

 

I glanced past her to Jack who was looking rather sheepish in the living room. “There’s just no loyalty in this family.”

 

“There’s plenty of loyalty. Jack and I are loyal to you to the ends of the earth.” She reached out and put a hand on my arm. I sipped at my coffee again and looked away. I didn’t need this level of pity. “Alex said that he was pretty miserable when he came home, cursing and not talking and stuff.”

 

“Maybe he had a bad day. He was fine when he left the shop.” I focused on her now.

 

“She said she got a little out of him, something about making things awkward.” Claire stared like she was looking for the explanation that he would not give. Dean had been so relaxed, his eyes closed, and then he made that sinful sound. It was pure pleasure he was feeling and I had coaxed it out of him quite by accident. A little tug to his hair to move his head was all it took. The thought of trimming his hair after that was rather distasteful. He needed to grow it out enough for this to be a regular occurrence. 

 

Jack moved into his field of vision. “Maybe Claire should get his number for you. I bet that Alex would pass it on via text.”

 

“No.” I couldn’t think of anything worse. “You know what made things awkward was having an audience and knowing that you all were setting us up. He didn’t say anything, but I’m sure he felt weird about it all. The shot was blown, and I’m fine. Don’t make this a big deal.”

 

“Well, what are you gonna do when we’re gone. You know Jack and I are gonna go off to college next year. Who’s gonna set you on the path to love or at least sex.”

 

“Not my kids, that’s for damn sure.” I set down the coffee and left the room with a modicum of dignity. I was happy to hear them shuffling around in the living room as they prepared to leave, Jack to work and Claire to school. I’d heard enough.

 

The front door opened and closed. I came out of hiding to find that Claire hadn’t left. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re gonna be late to school.” I was prepared to dive back into the room.

 

“I’m a senior. I can be late.” She had her hands pressed into her pockets. “I just want you to be happy. And I worry about you being alone.”

 

“I’ll be fine. It’s not like Jack is going that far. He might even commute from here. Plus, he’ll still be working at the shop a bit. I won’t be entirely alone.” I moved to her and pulled her into a hug. She meant well after all. “And I know for a fact that you’ll be home for every holiday. I just have to make it to Thanksgiving next year, and then you’ll be back with us.”

 

She pulled away. “Speaking of Thanksgiving,” she started. “I’ve been invited to do Thanksgiving with Alex’s family out at the Mills’ place.”

 

“Oh, what’s your mom think about that?” We normally did the major holidays at her place.

 

“She’s gonna be out of town still on business. I’m pretty sure this will be a load off her mind. I was mostly worried about ditching you and Jack.”

 

“We’ll be fine. You go have fun meeting your girlfriend’s family.” I grinned as I said it.

 

“Way too early to be calling her that. I haven’t even gone out on a real date with her that didn’t involve setting our dads up.” She grinned back. Well, touche. 

 

“I love you, Claire.” I kissed her head. “Get to school.” I turned her toward the door and propelled her on her way.

 

“Love ya too, Pops.”

 

* * *

 

 

And it would have all gone back to business as usual if the kids had just let it. I worked. Jack worked. There was a noticeable change though. Dean didn’t sit on his fire escape. I thought about tossing him a wave the next time he was up there. It might fix my total lack of action from before. He just never showed up. A week passed, and he didn’t show. And finally the week of Thanksgiving was upon us. Claire was going to great lengths to prepare some dish in the kitchen that she would be bringing over to Alex’s family gathering.

 

I had a small turkey breast to warm up and some stuffing on the stove. Once she cleared out, I would finish getting the meal together for Jack and I. She was struggling though. “What are you doing to the dough?”

 

“I’m braiding it. What’s it look like?” She was irritated, and it really didn’t look like a braid.

 

“Let me help you.” I tried to take over.

 

She shoved me away with her flour covered hand. “Not a chance, Pops. I’ve gotta do this, and it’s gotta be good. First impressions.” She started kneading the dough again into a giant ball that she’d once again separate into three equal parts. 

 

The base of the dough sounded wonderful. She’d mixed some fennel seeds into it. The room smelled good. There was something just lovely about holiday herbs cooked with butter to make everything feel a bit right. “They don’t have to know that I helped.” I leaned into the counter next to her. “Maybe just let me talk you through it.”

 

“Look, if you got advice, give it. I’m not letting you touch the dough though.” She glanced over at me as she began dividing up the dough again. 

 

“Put each piece into a bowl, and then roll them one at a time into the long strand that you plan to work with. Use flour on the dough and your hands to keep it from sticking. Don’t roll it too thin. It’ll be easier to work with.” She followed my directions and even let me get to my stove. 

 

Once we were more settled into our tasks she started in again on an old conversation that I thought had died. “You could come with me.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“They invited you and Jack.” She just couldn’t let it go.

 

“We’re fine right here. I’m not about to show up to a dinner without providing any sort of notice to the host. Ms. Mills was kind to offer, but Jack and I are fine here.”

 

She was getting ready to put her bread braid into the oven. “Looks good huh?”

 

“Brush the top of it with an egg white.” 

 

“Huh? Why?” She set the pan back on the counter and went to the fridge. She came back with an egg.

 

“It’s what you do. It makes the tops of the bread look extra nice.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.” She set to work, and I stirred the stuffing mix on low heat. Jack was due back soon. He took an appointment at the shop despite it being a holiday. 

 

Eventually Claire finished, and I got the last of the food ready. She wandered off to her room to get dressed. I was looking forward to hearing about how her night went, and any little extra details that she might drop about Dean wouldn’t be unwelcome either, even if I had to pretend otherwise for my own sanity. 

 

The bread came out great. I helped her package it up and sent her out the door just as Jack was walking in. “Something smells great.” He seemed to be rather happy. 

 

“It’s totally my bread. Smell.” She held it up to him. 

 

“Smells great, Claire. You off already?”

 

“Yeah, they start eating early so that they can go to the Black Friday sales.”

 

“Really? We actually know people that do that?” Jack asked.

 

“I do now. If you and dad get bored, come over so you can know them too.” She tossed a wink my way and was out the door. I watched her from the window as she made her way to her ‘67 VW Beetle. It was a cute old car, and I tried not to worry about her driving something that might not be much more than a tin can on wheels.

 

The afternoon was pleasant. Jack and I ate our fill of Thanksgiving meat and stuffing. We had piles of mashed potatoes and gravy. I maybe overdid it given that it was just the two of us. An hour in and Claire texted.  _ They burnt the pie. We won’t be having pie. The travesty. _

 

I had to laugh a little. I showed Jack the text. “Sad,” he mumbled around a half chewed bite of a biscuit. “We should take ours over to them. It’d be the neighborly thing to do.”

 

“Wow, you two come up with this plan all on your own, or did you watch a bit too much on the Hallmark Channel?” I got up and started clearing the table. Jack just sat there looking all innocent. He’s a pretty good actor. I almost believed him.

 

“I’ve been too busy to watch TV lately. I have finals coming up soon.” Jack got up to clear his dishes. “You gonna text her back?”

 

I pulled out the phone. “Bummer,” I said as I typed the word and hit send.

 

“Wow, you’re not exactly sympathetic.” He glanced at the pie. “I could take it over. Not like we need a whole pie for just the two of us.” 

 

“Maybe I want a whole pie for the two of us.” I was kind of looking forward to the pie part of things. It was just a pumpkin pie, nothing special really, but it was a tradition. I’d even planned to have some for breakfast. Yes, I actually planned out a pie breakfast. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

 

“Look, we can get another pie tomorrow. I’ll even pick it up.”

 

“I made this one.” I don’t know why I was being difficult. It really shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. It was also our last Thanksgiving together like this. All the pieces needed to be in place, and it was bad enough that we didn’t get Claire this year. Now they were gonna get my pie too.

 

Jack seemed to get it. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m being stupid.”

 

Claire texted again.  _ My car won’t start. Should I call AAA? _

 

I showed Jack the text. “Is this part of the plan too?”

 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re way more clever than a burnt pie, broken car scenario. Call her.”

 

I did. “Hey.”

 

“Pops, it’s not even turning over. I was gonna go out and get a pie from the market down the street. Alex was gonna go with me. It ran just fine getting here.”

 

“Let me hear it.” I was no mechanic, but if she tried to turn it over, I’d hear something that might clue me into the problem.

 

It was making a clicking noise. “See, no turn over. You think the alternator went kaput?”

 

“Not sure. You know more about cars than me. I’m not a mechanic. Thought you had a generator though.” 

 

I could hear Alex in the background. “Should I get Dean to look at it?”

 

“No,” Claire said. “I don’t want to bother him. Maybe Pops can just come by and take us to get the pie.”

 

“Claire,” I closed my eyes and tipped my head back as I said the rest, “Are you pulling something here?”

 

“You know what, Pops.” She sounded genuinely upset. “I’ve got better things to do right now than deal with that. If you don’t want to help out, then don’t.” I really didn’t deserve that, but I could have been more sensitive. It was Thanksgiving after all. 

 

“Fine, give me the address, and I’ll be there in a bit. Don’t make this weird.”

 

There was a silent pause that seemed to go on a bit too long. “You ready to write it down?” 

 

“Yeah.” I wrote the address and did the mental math on how far the place was from here. With any luck we’d be there and back in no time. Of course, that is if there was easily accessible pie at some place that wasn’t closed on the holiday. I glanced at the pie, all warm on the stove, and I made another decision. Whatever was going to keep the visit brief. Sacrifices needed to be made.

 

Jack was watching me. “You going to get Claire?”

 

“Sort of. I’m going to look at the car and take them our pie.” I started packaging it up.

 

“Oh, you want company?” 

 

“Yep, I’m certainly not making the trip alone, especially if you two are setting me up.” Jack donned the innocent face again. “Yep, that face is not comforting. I want you right there looking me in the eye when you betray me.”

 

“You make it sound like we’re tossing you to the lions or something.”

 

“You are.” 

 

Jack just laughed and snatched the keys up off the counter. “Come on. I’ll drive you old man.”

 

“Wow, thanks for that.” Jack laughed again. We headed out, and I didn’t even bother checking to see if I was presentable. I wasn’t. I looked like I’d been cooking all day. I had flour freckles, and I wasn’t wearing the most flattering clothes. The beauty of family dinners was that you didn’t have to dress up. I’d at least grabbed my trench coat to cover up on the way out. Under it I had on my half buttoned shirt and baggy slacks. It was my comfy clothes. It was quite the outfit.

 

* * *

 

 

When Dean came in for the haircut, I’d been grateful for the fact that he’d kept his eyes closed for most of the time he spent with me. It was easier to stare at him that way. He was stunning. I was pretty sure that I’d never been attracted to someone before this, not really anyway. Yes, there were those that I’d find aesthetically pleasing. There were those with depths of kindness so great that it was easy to want to spend time with them. This though, this unexpected surge of feelings, was entirely new and wholly unexpected. 

 

I took too long, rinsing out his hair. Occasionally, he’d smile, and it was like everything in me twisted up. I was too old for this. He didn’t keep his eyes closed the whole time he was with me. A few times he had them opened, and I was left to wonder just what color they were. In sunlight they seemed to be almost the color of whiskey. When the sunlight was obscured or when I angled him away from the window, they held their own glimmer of sunlight paired with green. They were chartreuse and worthy of descriptions far beyond my limited capabilities. I would never be able to hold up my end of a conversation with him; I’d be too distracted to form words.

 

These were the thoughts that were crowding my head as Jack drove to the Mills’ family gathering. If I were lucky, I’d be able to just hand her the pie and avoid all the awkwardness of meeting new people. Jack pulled into the driveway alongside Claire’s car. She was outside with Alex blowing warm puffs of air onto their hands. It was cold out, but it was California cold, so not bad. They were bundled up though in ugly winter sweaters and knit caps, like they lived in blizzard country. It was cute, if one could forget the sinister machinations that the Claire Mind was capable of.

 

“Pops! Yay!” She practically hoisted me off the ground with the hug she gave me. 

 

“Careful, you don’t want me to drop the pie.” 

 

She stepped back to the car with a smile. “You brought a pie too. You’re the best. Alex and I were freezing our asses off.” I set the pie on the roof of the car and turned my attention to the little Bug that couldn’t. “Oh, hey Jack,” she said with another telling grin.

 

“Well, start the car for me.” I waved at the car.

 

She got in and tried turning it over. It didn’t turn over. “See, just silent.”

 

“It was clicking before.” I went to the back and lifted the hood. “Do it again.”

 

She turned the key and still nothing. “Maybe I need a new battery.”

 

“You just put a new battery in a couple of months ago.” I didn’t know though. Maybe a jump. “You got the jumper cables in your trunk?”

 

“No,” she said. She looked guilty, and I wasn’t sure that I believed her.

 

“Guess we’ll just have to use the ones in Jack’s car.”

 

“Sorry, Pops. I don’t have any in my car. I’ve got AAA for that.” He walked over and peered down at the engine. “There isn’t even a battery in here to jump.”

 

“It’s under the seat,” Alex said. “Volkswagens.” She smirked and closed the hood. “Let’s go in and see if someone wants to loan us some cables.”

 

And just like that, I was sucked into their little scheme. Seriously, who doesn’t carry jumper cables? “I’ll just wait out here.”

 

“Don’t be stupid. You can give Jody the pie,” Claire said. “She’s way nice. I’m sure she’d like to say thanks and all.”

 

“That’s unnecessary.” If I thought that would be enough, I was sorely mistaken. She grabbed my arm and directed me to the house. She and Alex were marching in and Jack was at my heels. There was no escape. 

 

“Jodes,” Alex called. “More company, and they have pie.”

 

A tall woman with close cropped dark hair rounded the corner into the entryway while everyone was removing shoes and jackets. Even Jack looked like he was committing to a long stay with his own jacket already off and hanging over one arm. It had been less than ten seconds. I glared at him. “Betrayal,” I whispered.

 

“I don’t know what you’re going on about,” Jack said. He passed the pie to me. I had apparently forgotten to grab it on the way in. Great. He could have been the great pie giver. 

 

“Jody,” Alex said. “This is Jack and Cas.” 

 

Jody reached out and shook Jack’s hand and turned to do the same with me, but I was holding a pie. “So you’re the infamous Cas we’ve been hearing so much about.”

 

“Oh, that sounds bad.” I looked quickly to Claire. “What did you say?”

 

Jody laughed and said, “Nothing bad, I promise.” 

 

“Come on Jack, I’ll introduce you to the others,” Claire took his arm and dragged him off to the other room. At least Jack had the decency to look back guiltily. Alex followed them, leaving me alone with Jody.

 

“This is for you. Claire may have said that you had a pie mishap.”

 

“Oh.” Jody reached out and took the pie. “And you came over to give us a replacement? That’s really thoughtful.”

 

She moved into the kitchen, and I followed her. I felt the deepest desire to just keep on hovering at the front door. “Well, I actually came over because Claire was having car troubles.”

 

“She was?” Jody leaned down and took a whiff of the pie. “Oh, Cas. This is not store bought. This smells amazing.”

 

“I made it this morning. I haven’t tested it yet, so I can’t guarantee that it’s good.” 

 

“Well, you don’t get to leave without having some. That would be kind of ridiculous.” She was already pulling out a knife to begin the slicing. “So what sort of car trouble was she having?”

 

“It’s not turning over. I only came in to see if you had some jumper cables. Apparently my kids don’t think that they need to carry such things in their cars.”

 

Jody laughed. “Seriously?” She hollered around the corner. “Hey, Dean! Get in here and give me a hand.”

 

“Oh, that’s really not necessary. I don’t want to disturb your family time. I already feel bad enough about the intrusion.” I’d probably have gone on a bit longer if it weren’t for the fact that Dean was walking in. Words. 

 

Jody was cutting into the pie. “Dean, Cas here was just telling me that Claire was having car trouble and that she and Alex were just sitting out there not knowing how to fix the problem this whole time that they were missing.”

 

“Really?” Dean was avoiding eye contact. I offended him. He can’t even bring himself to look at me. What’d I do? Well, I didn’t give him my number or show any interest whatsoever. Shit. This is awkward. I am dying.

 

Say something. “Claire called me about a half hour ago. She wanted me to drive her to somewhere that had pie since she couldn’t get her car started. I figured I’d just bring the pie I made instead and figure out what was wrong with the car myself.”

 

“You good with cars?” Dean asked without looking at me. 

 

“Not a bit. I can fake my way through simple things. I thought maybe it needed a jump, but we apparently don’t have cables in either car.”

 

Jody was moving pie slices onto plates. “You should go out there and take a look at it Dean. You’ll likely solve it in a jiff.”

 

“I’m sure I will. Alex should have been able to solve it in a jiff too. This smells of meddling teenagers.” The last bit was grumbled out. Jody smiled at him and settled a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean finally looked at me. “Let’s go have a look at the car.”

 

“Okay.” I was lucky to get one word out once he looked at me. His eyes were mesmerizing. 

 

“Jody, don’t you dare hand out that pie.”

 

“Seriously, Dean?” Jody set down the plate.

 

“I’m pretty sure some of them don’t deserve it, and you all are certainly not gonna eat all that pie while we are out there freezing our balls off fixing the totally not broken car.”

 

“It didn’t start,” I offered.

 

Dean moved past me and said, “I’m sure it didn’t. Come on.” 

 

I followed him out and did everything in my power to keep from feeling like I was tied to a comet. He looked good, so good. Get it under control. My eyes, traitors, dropped to his ass as he walked out. It was darker out now than when I’d arrived. Dean pulled a wad of keys from his pocket as he moved toward the car. He turned on the little flashlight that dangled from the end of the keychain. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, and his black t-shirt was criminally tight.

 

“She left the keys in the ignition,” I offered. He opened the door and adjusted the seat before getting in.

 

“What’d she tell you when she called?” He wasn’t looking at me. He seemed to be singularly focused on the car. He turned the key, and just as before, nothing happened. He spared me a glance.

 

“Just that the pie was burned and that the car wouldn’t start.” I decided to go for casual and leaned against the edge of the vehicle. I folded my arms over my chest.

 

“And nothing else?” I wondered what he was after.

 

“I had her try starting the car while I was on the phone and it made a clicking sound. I thought I could solve the problem from home.”

 

Dean turned in the seat and set his legs outside the car. “You said you’re not good with cars.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You know who is though?” He looked up at the house. “Alex. She coulda fixed this herself. Bet she didn’t offer a word of advice. Not to mention, I bet Claire knows a thing or two about cars. She drives this thing, so she’d have to. Am I right?”

 

“She usually does her own repairs.” I moved my hands to my coat pockets. 

 

“Except, apparently, this time.” Dean got out and stood. He propped his arm up on the car door. “What’d she say about the problem when you talked to her on the phone?”

 

“She asked if it could be the alternator,” I recalled.

 

Dean laughed. “Yup, we’ve been played.” Dean moved his arm off the door and moved the seat forward before crouching down. “I’m gonna pull the seat out. You mind taking an end as I pull it out?”

 

“Okay.” I got ready. He moved the bottom part of the back seat out rather awkwardly into my hands. I propped it up against Jack’s car behind me. Dean took his wad of keys and aimed his mini flashlight into the back of the car. He put the light in his mouth and dipped in further.

 

Dean laughed. “Yep, called it,” he mumbled around the flashlight. “Stick your head in here and have a look.”

 

I leaned down into the open door and looked in. It was a little odd hovering over Dean in that small space. He pulled the light out of his mouth and aimed it into the space in front of him that use to be beneath the seat. He looked up at me and licked his lips. I tried to look casual. Not sure how that came across. “So, what are we looking at?”

 

“Um, not an alternator.” He swallowed and looked away. “This is a generator.” He reached down and pointed out a loose wire. “This wire is not connected.”

 

“Huh, did it fall off?” I leaned in a little more to get a better look.

 

“Nope. They undid it.” Dean looked up.

 

“Teenagers.” I rolled my eyes.

 

“Any theories as to why they'd do this?”

 

He was still watching me, and I did not know what to say. The truth was a complicated and uncomfortable thing. It was a thing to maybe avoid. “I have theories. Claire really wanted me to come here for the Thanksgiving feast.” Not a lie.

 

Dean coughed, and then mumbled something as he started reattaching the wire. “Why was it so important to her?” Dean didn't look at me. He knew why though. I was sure of it. 

 

“Sounds like you have theories.” There. Ball's in your court now, buddy.

 

“Feed the seat back in here.” Well avoidance was a solid tactic. I'd give him that. He got the seat back in place, and I got out of his way as he got back up. I stayed close to him though. It was reasonable as the night was growing cold, and he was radiating warmth. Totally reasonable. “Why don't you see if it'll start.”

 

I got in, and sure enough, it started. He had his arms braced against the roof as he leaned in near my head. I let the car idle and turned on the heater. “Sounds like you fixed it.”

 

Dean walked around and got in on the other side. “You mind taking her around the block so I can listen to her?”

 

I thought about it for a moment then closed the door. “It sounds fine.”

 

“Maybe.” Dean put on his seatbelt and cocked an eyebrow up. “You do know how to drive a stick don't you?”

 

He had the biggest shiteating grin on his face. “I know how to drive a manual transmission just fine, thank you very much.” I should have started driving right then and there just to show him, but I was too busy being indignant. 

 

He laughed. “Look, if you don't know how to handle a stick, it's really not a big deal.”

 

“I can handle a stick.” He still looked smug. I needed to knock him down a peg. “Haven't had any complaints yet.” He still looked pretty smug. Well shit.

 

I shifted into reverse and pulled out into the street. I was careful to shift as smoothly as I could into first. I was rather conscious of him. I was sure that he was judging my every move. I headed down the long stretch of road. It was country dark, punctuated here and there by distant street lamps. “Hang a right here.”

 

I followed his directions, and headed into a subdivision. “So, you hearing anything notable?”

 

Dean hummed and then said, “It's running a little rich.”

 

“Should we be concerned?”

 

Dean laughed at me. This seemed to be his response to everything I was saying this evening. “No, just means she needs to adjust some things.” Dean rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Turn here.” 

 

He's distracting. Pay attention. “So, you said you had theories about why they'd do this. Care to share?” I said.

 

I chanced a glance. He was smirking at me. He had cute little eye crinkles. “You know what they're up to. I'm just glad you didn't get the same earful I got at dinner. That was,” he paused as he searched for the word, “uncomfortable.”

 

“Care to share some details?”

 

“Not a one. Let's just say that Alex and Claire are a force to be reckoned with.”

 

“So not even one detail? I almost wanted to ask Claire about the evening now, but that would give her the win.”

 

Dean tipped his head back. “There was just a lot of ‘let's make Dean feel like an idiot’ moments. Everyone got a good laugh.” He was looking out the window now. “Turn left.”

 

“I'm sorry. If it helps, I’ve been getting the same treatment at home.”

 

“Yeah,” he said as he glanced at me.

 

“Yeah.” We were returning to the house now. I pulled into the driveway. Two heads just disappeared from the front window. “You see them?”

 

“Yep. I should make sure this doesn't feel like a win.” Dean got out of the car. I followed.

 

I moved to his side. The contrast between temperatures in the warm car and outside was duly noted. “How do we steal their win?”

 

“I talk. A lot. About cars. And safety. It should be horrible. You like pie?”

 

I tried to follow the weird set of seemingly not connected sentences and the completely weird jump to pie. “Pie is great.”

 

“So this nice guy, made a pie and brought it over. Was thinking you'd want to split it with me while I chat with the girls.”

 

He was grinning. I was struggling. “Oh, you mean me. I brought pie.” I sounded like a child.

 

He threw an arm up over my shoulders and said, “Yes you did, buddy,” as we walked back up to the house.


	6. Dean's December

 

It was hard not looking at him, but I knew that I’d never get a word out of my mouth if I just gave him even a glance. So, I avoided that for as long as I could at first. It was awkward though, just staring at the tiles in Jody’s kitchen or the car out in the driveway. Plus, he was adorably rumpled and wearing the most ridiculous clothes.

 

That was back in November, and I haven’t been able to shake the night. It started in a way that seemed destined to go down in history as one of the worst holiday dinners in the history of ever. It was a roller coaster experience, that’s for sure. With Alex’s constant window checking just before Claire arrived and all of the gentle poking and prodding from Sam and Jody, I’d already felt near epic levels of anxiety spiking through me.

 

Alex had been telling everyone about Cas, and how important it was for everyone to encourage my efforts on the dating front. I couldn’t discourage them enough. They just seemed to feel the need to keep redirecting every conversation back into my love life, or lack thereof.

 

Over dinner, I thought they’d chill a little, but no, that was never going to happen. They didn’t even seem to care one bit that we had company. Oh, and Claire, she had no issues with contributing to the let’s hook up Dean with the nearest single man on the planet conversation. Nope, she downright encouraged all of them. Sam even piped up at some point with, “Alex, I like this one. Keep her.”

 

Even Sam’s wife, Eileen, was in on the plan to continually humiliate me. She was signing things that I absolutely recognized, and Sam was cracking up. And, also, no Eileen, I didn’t need a good holiday stuffing. Geesh! There were impressionable minors present.

 

Donna at least tried to help. She’s the only family I have now. The rest were all dead to me. Okay, maybe that was a bit much. Anyway, at least she tried. I’d almost include Jody in the list of family that was not on my shit list, but she pulled that whole deal with Cas in the kitchen. Yeah, he maybe couldn’t tell, but I sure could. She kept doing the eyebrow raise and sideways glance thing that basically screamed, heyyyyy, look at that hot piece of ass that everyone wants you to hook up with.

 

It was all I could do to just survive. Then we had to go deal with the car, and he just had to keep standing so close to where I was. His arms, shit, I almost let myself stop thinking about his damn arms. They were the sort of arms that make you fantasize all sorts of things. I was pretty sure he worked out, like maybe a lot. God, the things he could do to me with those arms. I’d let him push me around, get me up against some solid walls…

 

I needed to stop being like this. We drove around in that tiny car, and all I could think about was how close he was, how easy it would be to just reach over and tousle that thick head of hair a little. And maybe he could get his hands in mine again. There were things you could eat to supposedly get your hair growing faster, eggs maybe. I needed to start eating more eggs just in case. The faster my hair grew, the faster I’d have an excuse for a repeat visit.

 

We seemed to get on well enough at least, so it might not be awkward the next time. We were a united front once we entered the house again and summoned the girls to the kitchen. I motioned for them to sit on the other side of the kitchen island. Cas took a seat beside me, and I passed him the first slice of pie. We’d both schooled our expressions into the most serious faces we could muster.

 

Cas was way better at this than me. I thought maybe he really felt the irritation that was on display in his squinty eyed glare. We each took a synchronized bite of pie. The girls looked a little concerned. Alex started to reach for one of the extra pie plates, like this was going to be an eating event for her. I reached out and slid the plate back to our side of the counter and made sure that it was in front of Cas.

 

I dug deep. I pulled out everything I had in my arsenal on car safety. I talked about how one should never drive with wires that are so loose that they could just fall off by some miracle. I talked about the fumes that the car produced, and how starting it in the state it was in could ignite those fumes. I laid it all on thick, very thick. Almost as thick as Cas’ arms… Seriously, I needed a hobby.

 

When they all left, he even looked at me. He said, “Goodbye, Dean,” like he wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable with being near me. The night ended well. We had eaten the whole pie between us. No one in the other room got a damn piece, and frankly I only felt bad for Donna. She’d forgive me though. Donna’s cool.

 

I watched Cas walk down that driveway with his son, and I thought, yeah, I could stand to watch him a bit more. He had these little specks of flour on his cheek, and I wanted to brush them off all night. It would have made things awkward though. Instead I watched him go. I should have exchanged numbers with him. I should have asked him out, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to take a chance at messing it up.

 

* * *

 

 

December was upon us. It was fine. It wasn’t really, but I was telling myself that it was. The first day in and I was sitting on the fire escape again. This time I had coffee. It had been a long while since I’d done this. I was avoiding. Alex was out with Claire on what was supposedly their third or fourth date. They seemed happy, and I couldn’t even get my body across the street to talk to Cas.

 

It shouldn’t be this hard. I’d done this sort of thing tons of times. Something about this felt different though. He felt different. Alex talked about him. She told stories about him that she got from Claire. Then there was Claire, who had come over to our place for dinner. She told stories too. I pretended that it was all so casual, and they, for their part, let me.

 

So, now it was December, and I’m sitting out on my damn fire escape, hoping he’ll walk by. He did not disappoint. I mentioned that it was December, fucking winter, and maybe a little cold. He rounded the corner in a Hawaiian shirt and the tightest fucking jeans ever poured onto a body. He was alone, which was a little unusual for him.

 

I considered ducking back into the apartment. I didn’t want to look like a creeper. It was my damn fire escape though, and I was allowed to utilize it. He glanced up. Damn it. He stumbled. Oh god…

 

He waved. I waved back. He looked like he was laughing about the stumble. He moved to the curb and shielded his eyes as he looked up at me. “You surprised me,” he called up from across the street.

 

“Sorry.” I don’t know what I was apologizing for. I was literally just sitting there. Reflex response maybe.

 

“How’re you doing?” His eyes were doing the little squinty thing. I could see it even at this distance. A tiny breeze swept past him, puffing up his bright blue shirt. It almost made the little waves on it look like they were rolling.

 

Oh, he asked me something. “I’m good. You?”

 

“Hoping some walk-ins come on by. It’s been a slow week.” He lowered his hand from his forehead. I saw more of his squinty eyed expression. I shouldn’t keep obsessively thinking about how cute he is. He was devastatingly handsome. He had a rock hard body that I wouldn’t mind going toe to toe with. At the same time, he’s just cute.

 

I decided to climb down the fire escape. What was I doing? I set the coffee mug down on the landing before committing to the effort. The last leg of the fire escape wasn’t lowered. I undid the latch and slid down with the ladder. It was a cool move that I’d shown Alex when she was a kid. It earned me some points with her. I was trying to earn a different set of points now. He was watching me. I schooled my features and endeavored to be casual on the inside and the outside.

 

He was biting his bottom lip. Did he even know he was doing that? I crossed the street. “Hey.” I should have had more to say. I didn’t plan that far out.

 

“Hello, Dean.” He pressed his hands into his pants pockets. How he even had workable pockets in pants that tight was a mystery.

 

“Nice shirt.” Good one. Seriously, I’m an exceptional flirt. I never had this much trouble. Fuck words. Fuck them square in the ass.

 

“Thanks,” he smiled and picked up the edges of said shirt. “Another gift from my son. He has unusual taste. I have to wear each item at least once to validate his gift.”

 

“Is that the rule?”

 

“Well, I suppose. I wouldn’t want him to think I didn’t like the gift.” Cas tipped his head a little.

 

“It really is a nice shirt.” And I actually reached out and fingered the sleeve of it a little. Fuck personal space too, while we’re at it.

 

Oh, he was looking at my hand on his shirt. I should let go, retreat. His eyes locked with mine. “It’s better than the kilt.” He smiled, and it was almost like he knew what that kilt did to me. And here he just dropped it into our nice little conversation like it was nothing. Well, fuck him too. I’d fuck him. This train of thought was not helping.

 

I let his shirt go. “Kilts are cool.” Not my best effort at speaking. The words came out in a slightly higher octave than I’d intended.

 

“Pretty sure Jack thinks that too. It was a Father's Day present.” Inexplicably, Cas seemed to move closer. Yeah, fuck personal space. He leaned into my ear and said, “Can you believe some people don’t wear anything under them?”

 

Why was he whispering this? Why was he saying it so close to my ear. His breath was hot and minty. His neck was right there. I could lick him. NO. He stepped back. My heart was slamming out it’s beat in my ears. I could hear nothing. What should I even say now. A confidence was given. He shared the deep secret of people’s kilt wearing habits. I had to respond with something other than freaking out. I leaned in now and puffed out words near his ear. “So did you stick with tradition when you wore it?”

 

I stepped back this time. He took a shaky breath. Did I get to him? His eyes seemed to get dark all of a sudden. “It’s cold out here. Come into the shop.” Not an answer. I followed him anyway. The place was empty, so Jack apparently had the day off. Cas walked around flicking on lights. I didn’t know what to do. He pointed at the chair in his station. “Sit.”

 

I did as I was told. He tossed the drape over me and started tucking in a cotton wrap around the lower portion of my neck. He pulled out the cream for the shave I didn’t know I was getting. “Cas?”

 

“Figured if we were going to keep visiting, I could at least tidy up your shave.”

 

“Oh, I left my wallet upstairs though.” My hands were under the drape, and they were sweaty. I started wiping them off on my pants.

 

“Don’t be silly. This isn’t business.” He reached out to my head and ran his fingers into the back of my hair. He gave my hair a little tug back. God, it felt good. I didn’t want to even admit this, but I did not control my noises. He came down close to my ear and said, “I’m a traditionalist.” He started lathering up my face. It took me a second to process his words. Traditionalist? Oh, yeah. Oh, he was a commando kilt wearing dude. I could have totally gotten an extra view if the right wind had just blown that day. I could have seen the full monty. Well, fuck me.

 

He was shaving in long, smooth strokes down my cheek. I couldn’t respond. He directed my head into a few positions with a little tug here and there. I didn’t moan, or anything, so I was proud of myself for all of this control I was exhibiting. Then he was leaning in again. It wasn’t to tell me anything. It was just to check the shave, make sure it was close enough. His leg though, now that was in every way distracting.

 

He had his leg pressed into my thigh. It was like he was almost straddling me a little. If this room wasn’t gifted with a giant, full window facing out to the street, I might have acted on an impulse. It was good that I didn’t, as he was running a razor over my face. Bleeding wasn’t exactly a turn on for me or him either I reckoned. He finished the shave and scrutinized my features. He leaned in closer. His damn leg pressed in against me.

 

I needed to speak or surge into him, kiss him, get my hands on him just a little. From the look in his eyes, I was pretty sure he’d be fine with this physical development. I chose words though. I swallowed first. Everything was so dry all of a sudden. It was like a desert rolled into my mouth while I likely sat here mouth breathing through this incredible moment.

 

“Got any Christmas plans with your kids?” Good, Dean. This was a safe path.

 

Cas moved back to the wall and started cleaning up his station. “Not sure. The girls were saying something the other day. Then Jack said we should figure out what we were going to be doing. I have been uncertain about our plans.”

 

He turned back to me. His eyes were locked on mine, and he looked once again, cute. It amazed me how fast he could go from smoulder city to adorable dad. I needed to make this happen. Effort, Dean Winchester. Make it! “I’m hosting Christmas dinner this year at my place.” I actually pointed at my window, like he didn’t already know where my place was.

 

“That should be nice. Are you a good cook?” He was leaned back against his counter, watching me.

 

I almost forgot words again. “I’m pretty handy in the kitchen. I’m not good at making pie though. In fact, I maybe hand off pie duty to someone else, every damn time. The crust never turns out right. Then there’s the filling. I can do a fine enough apple, but most other fillings are a mystery.”

 

“Pies are easy to make. I make them every year. You just have to follow the recipe for the crust. There’s no room for improvisation.” He licked his lips like the mere thought of pie was getting him all hungry.

 

“Well, I lack that skill. Too bad I don’t have someone to invite, that knows how to make a good pie.” I winked. I fucking did it. I flirted. Yay, team me. I am a flirting god. Kiss my fucking ass mortals.

 

“Are you inviting me to your Christmas dinner, Dean?”

 

“I’m trying. If I’m overstepping, you just have to tell me.” I had to wipe my hands on my slacks again. He came close and started undoing my drape and neck cloth. No hiding now, Mr. Sweaty Palms.

 

“You’re not overstepping. I just wonder if the kids will make it awkward.” He glanced out the window like he could see across town to where they were.

 

“We might need to get together to hatch a game plan. This might take some real strategizing.” I got up out of the chair. If this conversation went south, I’d need to be able to cut and run right quick.

 

“So, you’re saying we might need to get dinner to talk about how to deal with the kids at Christmas.” He paused a second and tipped his head, and added, “Like a date?”

 

I walked over to his appointment counter and looked at his calendar. “Looks like you don’t have anything going on tomorrow night. I’ve got that night off too, as luck would have it.” I picked up a pencil. “Mind if I pencil in dinner here?” Cas nodded. “I’m writing in my number under my name. Shoot me a text if you realize later that you can’t go.”

 

I was halfway out the door when he stopped me. “Dean.” I turned back to him. “What should I wear?”

 

And because I was a little shit, who didn't know what’s good for him, I said, “If it’s not too cold, maybe that kilt.” I winked again. Still got it. And then I went out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Was it always this nerve wracking? Twenty-four hours is actually a hell of a lot of time to pass. Luckily I had work.The pub was busy with all the usual locals, and the next morning was going to be spent at the shop. It still felt like I was only half focused. I kept wondering if he’d take me seriously and wear the kilt. I’d likely die. We didn’t have to go out. Alex was going to be at Jody’s until Wednesday.

 

This was not a hook-up. I did a lot of pacing to talk myself down. There was also the very real possibility that this was not a date in the strictest sense. However, the more I thought about it, the more I recalled the heat of him whispering at my ear, the more I believed that this was a very real date, and Cas was very interested.

 

I should have gone to bed as soon as I got home. Working the closing shift at the pub the night before a morning shift at the shop was no picnic. I was stirring though. Everything was a flurry of what ifs. I hadn’t even logically considered what time we’d meet up or where we’d go. I considered cooking at home. Plying him with food mere steps from my bedroom seemed like a real solid plan until I let myself think about it too hard.

 

I just had to remember to be confident. I just had to remember how he looked at me like I was a dish he’d like to sink his teeth into. He was into this. He had to be. I just had to breathe.

 

Then the texting started.


	7. Texting Interlude

Cas: Is it too late to text you?

 

Cas: This is Castiel, btw.

 

Dean: No

 

Cas: I think it will be too cold to wear the kilt.

 

Dean: too bad ;)

 

Dean: What time should we meet

 

Cas: 7?

 

Dean: Sounds good. U been to Pullman’s around the corner?

 

Cas: A couple of times. They’re quite good.

 

Dean: wanna meet there?

 

Cas: Or I could meet you at your place, and we could walk over together…

 

Dean: Don’t want you to see the mess that I’m currently comfortable with. It’s pretty bad. Alex will be back on Wednesday so I have time to straighten it up before then.

 

Cas: I wouldn’t judge it.

 

Dean: Let me see what I can get cleaned before tomorrow evening.

 

Cas: I’ll just meet you at the restaurant or down at the corner. You don’t need to clean up for me.

 

Dean: well I might just the same

 

Dean: we might have to strategize after dinner a bit

 

Dean: ;)

 

Cas: You’re flirting with me, right?

 

Dean: I don’t know what I’m doing tbh

 

Cas: Oh.

 

Cas: I had to look up tbh. Don’t judge me. I only just learned btw the other day.

 

Dean: “to be honest”

 

Cas: Oh, so not the app that Facebook just acquired where people leave compliments…

 

Dean: Uh, no.

 

Cas: So, you weren’t flirting?

 

Dean: I was failing at flirting.

 

Cas: You weren’t failing. I just had to be sure. I’m rusty at this whole thing too.

 

Dean: The kids haven’t made it easy.

 

Cas: Well, at least they got you into the shop. I guess, they haven’t messed up everything.

 

Dean: I would have made it into the salon eventually. The push helped though.

 

Cas: What are you doing right now?

 

Dean: getting ready for bed Why?

 

Cas: Was going to suggest meeting up earlier, like tonight.

 

Dean: It’s 2:30. I have to work in a few hrs

 

Cas: Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Guess I was failing at flirting.

 

Dean: Not failing. I’m so close to just calling Bobby and saying I can’t come in. Unfortunate fever or smallpox or maybe tuberculosis. Do people still get the plague?

 

Cas: There was an outbreak of the plague in Madagascar. I’m guessing though that you have not been to Madagascar. You likely have TB shots to stave off tuberculosis, and smallpox is another sickness that you can be vaccinated for. Maybe you’re an anti-vaccer…

 

Dean: No

 

Dean: I’ve got my shots. Haven’t been to Madagascar. Guess I’m working tomorrow. Too bad, I would have rocked your world with my half awake foggy focus.

 

Cas: I’m keeping you awake. Sorry.

 

Dean: You were keeping me up even when we weren’t texting;)

 

Cas: Well, this escalated quickly. ;)

 

Dean: Here’s to hoping we can keep this going tomorrow.

 

Cas: Technically today.

 

Dean: Yeah.

 

Cas: Go to sleep, Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow.

 

Dean: Goodnight, Cas.

 

Cas: Goodnight, Dean.


	8. Cas' December

Six hours left. I slept horribly. In fact, I maybe didn’t sleep. By noon though, I had to just give up. I could go to work, wait for walk-ins, but that seemed like it might be even more frustrating. Plus, Jack was working today. I didn’t need to be explaining my evening to him. 

 

I had it all worked out. I’d get ready and leave here just before he got home. Avoidance. Claire was with her mom or maybe Alex. It was going to be easy escaping their scrutiny. After all, that was the point of all of this, strategize our way through the holiday meal plans. No one needed an awkward holiday family meal.

 

I maybe scrolled back through our text stream from the night before. I maybe did that a hundred times before I got out of bed. He was flirting with me. I flirted back. I closed my eyes and felt my face heating up. It was pretty brazen. I literally offered to go to his apartment at 2:30 in the morning. He turned me down, but he considered it. I’m not sure I would have survived it. My hands were shaking as I wrote the words. He was far more confident, with good reason. Look at him. 

 

I needed to kill time. I went to the store and bought some ingredients for the pie I’d make. There was pecan pie I could try out. I wondered if Dean liked pecans, then remembered that I could just ask.

 

Cas: Do you like pecans?

 

An hour passed without a response. He was working. I was interrupting him at work to randomly ask him about his pecan preferences. He was going to think I’m ridiculous. I’d ruined it all before it even began. Shit. Could you delete a text if it hadn’t been read yet? I did a quick Google search and found out that I couldn’t. The universe was rude like that.

 

Dean: random much?

 

Dean: pecans are great

 

I wondered if he was irritated. He said that pecans were great though. I said the words out loud in various tones to see which one seemed right. He could have thought I was odd. I was odd, so that would be fair.

 

Cas: I’m going to try making a pecan pie. It could be one of the pies I make for the holiday dinner.

 

Dean: Where’ve you been my whole life?

 

Cas: I guess that means you like pecan pie.

 

Dean: my love of pecan pie knows no bounds

 

Cas: Good :)

 

So, the tone on that little exchange seemed positive. I read those lines out loud and read into some of it too. He didn’t use capital letters much. He also didn’t punctuate. He was very casual. He did punctuate and capitalize that one line though, “Where’ve you been my whole life?” I threw my head back and closed my eyes after I read it. The words felt like something way more romantic than anything anyone had ever said to me. Well, the one checker at the Big Lots told me I had stunningly blue eyes. She looked all swoony. Hardly my type. It was sweet nonetheless.

 

I still needed to kill time, and the shopping would help with that, so I’d go to Imwalle down the street for most of my ingredients. They weren’t a grocery store. They were a small family farm that sold nuts and fruits and vegetables. I had all the dairy I needed, so this would be easy. I could get pecans for a fair price. I could scope out the local fruit and see what was good. Apple was likely going to be good. 

 

I passed the hour shopping and got all the groceries back to my place. It was easy to let time slide by when my hands were busy. I got the pie in the oven and cleaned up my messy kitchen. I hoped that Dean wasn’t feeling like he had to go to any extra efforts to clean his place. At the same time, I could view the effort as a sign. 

 

Was it always like this? Was it just because he was so breathtakingly beautiful? Was it because he looked like he was up to no good just with a smile? There were other things I should be doing. Instead I’m standing around, thinking of his jawline and devil may care attitude. It was five and I had to get ready. I decided to let the pie bake, while I got myself cleaned up. 

 

My closet mocked me. It was full of clothes and it offered no help on what to wear. The kilt was there. I was not wearing that despite Dean’s request. That was a joke anyway. The Pullman was a semi-casual place. Most places around here were though. 

 

Cas: What are you wearing?

 

Dean: greasy shirt and jeans

 

Huh? That hardly seemed like a good outfit for dinner. I’d been overthinking my clothes. Clearly, I could just wear whatever. Maybe he didn’t think this sort of thing is important. I must have sounded frivolous.

 

Dean: just got home from work

 

Cas: Oh. What will you be wearing then?

 

I was not going to lie. I pictured him in his greasy clothes and thought he might still look hot as sin. He had mechanic’s arms, the broad body of a man accustomed to heavy lifting. I wanted him, maybe more than I should. After all, what did we really know about each other? He had a good rapport with Alex. He worked two jobs. He liked pie. He was handy with a car. He had kind eyes and a smile I wanted to kiss.

 

I needed to pull myself together. He was going to have me babbling and looking idiotic in no time at all. Another text popped up. It was a picture. Dean had a clean white button up and jeans laid out on a bed. I went back to my closet and rummaged around. I couldn’t wear a white button up now. I’d match him too much. Unfortunately, everything in my closet seemed to be white. There was a light blue button up. I gave it a decent bit of scrutiny.

 

It would have to do. I paired it with some jeans, to make it more casual. I threw on a dark jacket and looked myself over in the mirror. It worked.

 

I had the pie out of the oven, cooling on the counter. Everything smelled good. I considered leaving it for Jack, but I really wanted to share it with Dean. He liked pie. He’d maybe like me better if I gave him said pie. I packed it in a traveler that I bought last year. It was still too early to leave. I’d be a whole hour early. I could stop in at the shop. There was literally nothing to do there. Plus, Jack was there. The whole point was to avoid him and the potential for the awkward. 

 

Kill time. Yeah, I could take a few minutes to consider shoes. I owned like three pairs of shoes. This was going to take 30 seconds. I pulled out the cowboy boots that were tucked in the corner. They had a little bit of blue stitching. They would actually look good with this outfit. I pulled them on and gave myself a thorough look over in the mirror. My hair was a mess. I tried to tame it a little. It wasn’t cooperating.

 

I could wear a hat. No. I owned a cheesy, novelty cowboy hat, a beanie, and a knit monkey cap. None of these would be at all appropriate. Bed head it was then. It was ironic that I worked for a salon, and this was how my hair was going to be. 

 

Smell check. I smelled like pie. I thought that’s a good thing. I could add cologne. That might not go well with the rest of the pie aroma. Maybe I should shower again. Maybe I should not be freaking out. Pie was good. Dean liked pie. I smelled like something that Dean likes. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and found inner peace for five whole seconds.

 

I was going to be early. I was going to have a pie in my car while we sat at the restaurant together. It would be best if he would just take the pie. I left the house with that thought. The closer I got to his house, the more I started telling myself that this was not how dating went.

 

I parked in my usual lot by the shop even though it was a few blocks away from the restaurant. I had some hope that I'd pass Dean on the way to the restaurant. I'd have to sit in this parking lot for at least 45 more minutes.

 

Dean: should have said 6 starving

 

Cas: Oh, thank God!

 

Dean: you too

 

Cas: I've got a pie in the car that might not make it to you.

 

Dean: You brought me the pie?

 

Cas: Yes.

 

Dean: and you're in your car?

 

Cas: Just steps away from your place.

 

Cas: I didn't want to show up early though.

 

Dean: I cleaned up the place. Come up.

 

I felt suddenly extra nervous. He cleaned his place. He asked me up. Be cool. I got out of the car, grabbed the pie, and headed over. He was out on his fire escape, leaning on the metal barrier. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing well tanned, muscular arms. 

 

I waved and thanked God he couldn't hear me choking on a breath. He smiled and waved back. I stopped at the curb below the fire escape, raised my hand to my forehead, and stared up at him. “Should I climb the ladder?”

 

“No, you've got pie. We aren't gonna risk it. The stairs are over there.” He pointed to a spot between two businesses. “Next to the whiskey place.”

 

I walked in that direction, and noticed a little alcove that had a door. I'd never noticed it before. I went in and did the climb up the steep steps. Dean was already waiting for me in the hall. I held out the pie. “Hope it tastes okay.”

 

Dean took the pie and said, “Come in and let's give it a sample.”

 

“You really live on the edge. Pie before dinner.”

 

He smiled at me and said, “Perks of being a part time dad. I can have dessert first when she’s not around.” His place was bigger than I thought it'd be from the outside. The ceilings were high, and the walls were brick. Everything was clean lines and comfy furniture.

 

“Your place is really nice. I can never have you over.”

 

He cocked a brow. “Maybe I should have left it a mess.” He was cutting the pie and putting generous slices on plates. He slid a plate over to me and started digging into his own slice. He had way too much on his fork. That didn’t stop him though. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel as he chewed. “This is good,” he mumbled past the mouthful of pie.

 

“Glad you like it.” I finally took a bite. It was good. We quietly munched our way through the slices of pie. “I have a couple of other recipes I want to try out before committing to specific pies for your gathering.” I hazarded a glance at him. He was done with his pie, and he was watching me. His eyes were full of affection. He moved to my side of the counter. I turned so my back was pressed to the counter. This let me face him. He put a hand on the counter at my side and leveled his gaze on me more.

 

“What flavors were you thinking of making?” He moved his other hand to the counter on the opposite side. I was boxed in by him. My heart was pounding. I kept my cool though. A little pride rolled through me. I doubled down on that tiny feeling of confidence.

 

“Definitely apple again, but with a streusel top.” Dean licked his lips. “I’ll need to have you test it to see if it is good enough.”

 

“Well, sacrifices must be made.” He leaned in closer. “What else are you thinking of making?”

 

“Blueberry, sort of…”

 

Dean hummed something out that sounded like approval, then said, “What do you mean by ‘sort of?’”

 

“I cook them down with some tequila. I’ll pair the pie with a creme anglaise.” Dean seemed to be a bit more into pie than I had realized. I pushed off the counter toward him. He stepped back. Not the reaction I was expecting. I think I surprised him. I moved toward him though and he kept stepping back. “I’ll need real feedback on this one, so it might be best to pick a day when I can share it with you. It takes considerable work to make it just right.” I kept moving toward him until his back was pressed to a bare spot on the brick wall. I boxed him in with my hands pressed to the wall on either side of his shoulders. 

 

He swallowed and said, “Or you could make it here sometime, anytime really.” He licked his lips again.

 

I pressed in closer, got my chest on him. “You really like pie.”

 

“Yes.” It was a quiet yes. It was kind of cute how he could go from being all confident swagger to melting and a little timid. 

 

“Am I,” I glanced down at the space that didn’t exist between us and continued, “coming on too strong?”

 

“No.” 

 

I pressed in closer, let him feel how much I was invested in this moment. I let one hand slide behind his head into his hair. I gave it the little tug that I knew he liked. I hoped to coax the little moan of pleasure from him again. He did not disappoint. I kissed him hard. His hands were on me in an instant, fingers digging into my back like he was desperate to just hold me there. We would have continued like this, but his stomach growled. I broke free. “You’re starving.”

 

“I’ll eat more pie after.” He pushed his mouth to mine again, and his stomach gave another loud protest.

 

I broke the kiss again. “Is Alex gone for the night?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then we can go eat and then come back here.” I moved to the door. “Come on.” I held out a hand to him. He moved to me and slipped his hand in mine. “Besides, it’s a first date. We should probably have dinner before you,” I gave him a one handed air quote, “rock my world.”

 

Dean laughed. “Fine then. Dinner first, then back here.” We headed out the door together. His hand was warm in mine. Everything vibrated with rich promises and a type of all consuming pleasure.


	9. Dean's December

We both ordered steaks. He picked the wine. We talked about everything but the holiday plans. Oh well, guess we’d just have to get together again to take care of that. Also, he had to come over and make those pies. HE MAKES PIES. PLURAL. I’m pretty sure I’d done nothing to deserve this windfall of good fortune. 

 

I wanted him to describe in great detail every step of his pie making process in that rich, gravelly voice of his. I’d have wallowed in the joy of imagining his fingers working dough if he hadn’t turned the conversation to his kids. I still seemed entirely too focused on his lips, the taste of them was still something I was holding onto despite the meal set before me.

 

“I’m pretty sure Jack is going to get accepted to Berkeley. I’m hoping he lets himself have the full college experience, dorms and all, but I also really want to keep him close.”

 

“At least he’ll be within easy driving distance.” 

 

Cas smiled a little. “Yeah, and he intends to keep working at the shop part time.”

 

“What’s he gonna major in?”

 

“Business. He thinks it’ll help him manage our little shop better. I think it’ll send him on a very different path. He’s smart. I can see him doing something great with that intellect of his, make the world a better place or something.”

 

“I feel the same way about Alex.” I took a sip of the wine. It was good, but beer would have been better. “She’s thinking Stanford, like Sam. She also liked UCSF. I’m not sure what she wants to do though. She seems to fluctuate between things like auto repair and medicine. I guess both are about fixing things.”

 

“Stanford is a tough school to get into. What’re her chances?” 

 

“Good, I think. She’s got the straight A’s and her test scores are high. Her college counselor said that her extracurriculars look good, like not a random collection of things to pad a resume with.” I took another bite of the steak and let the thought of Alex leaving roll around in my head. I wasn’t really ready for this. It had been hard when Sam left, but this might be even harder. “I’m not sure I’ll be okay with watching her go.” It was the first time I’d admitted it out loud.

 

Cas reached across the table and set his hand on mine. “I know just what you mean.” He gave my hand  a little squeeze. “It’s bad enough losing Jack, but I’m losing Claire at the same time. I don’t know what I’ll do with such an empty nest.”

 

I turned my hand over in his and held on. “Listen to us. Don’t we just sound sad?”

 

Cas laughed. “We sure do.” He smiled and picked up his glass of wine. He held it out to me and said, “To pitiful parents.” I picked up my glass and clinked it with him. 

 

I added, “To figuring out how to fill the time.” He watched me over the rim of his glass as he sipped. His thumb ran over the inside of my wrist. 

 

The waiter eventually came by and asked if we would like any dessert. Cas answered for us. “Just the check.” He smiled at me in a way that showed where his thoughts were living. “Hope I wasn’t presumptuous there. We do have dessert at your place.”

 

“I’ve been ready to head back ever since we left.”

 

“Didn’t realize the pie was that good.” His lips curled up just a little.

 

“I really like pie.” I removed my hand from his and leaned back in my seat. The check came, and we each threw down a card to pay our parts. It was rather civil. We left the restaurant and a bit of quiet descended upon us. I wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. We knew what we were in for.

 

There were a lot of little things that were working me up though, as we walked, and talking might soothe my racing heart. His knuckles brushed against mine with each step. He kept glancing at me all slyly as if I wouldn’t notice. His neck needed to be kissed. We got to the door that would get us to the stairs, that would get us to the hall, that would get us to the apartment. I didn’t have the will to wait anymore. As soon as the door closed, I had him pressed back to the wall. I kissed him deep, and damn, he kissed back like he was just as hungry for it.

 

“Dean,” he said as I dragged the kiss to his neck, finally getting to the spot that had been calling me. He was panting in my ear, raking his fingers over my back. He pushed me back against the other wall. He had his leg pressed up between my thighs. He groaned into another hard rush of a kiss. He had one arm pressed flat up alongside my head. I held him as tight to me as I could. It wasn’t enough.

 

“Stairs,” I managed, then, “Up.”

 

Thankfully he pulled me along. We barely separated. We should have tumbled down the stairs with the way we were moving. Halfway down the hall and he was shoving his hand up my shirt and I was dragging him with me, two fingers crooked into his waistband. I had to get into my pocket to find the keys to the apartment. I somehow managed to get the key in, and turned the handle. Cas was sucking a spot on my neck, and I was not able to focus on anything but that. 

 

“Hey, Pops,” Alex’s voice came from her room. 

 

Cas jumped away from me, and I was nearly clear across the room on the same instant. I looked toward her room and called back, “You said you’d be at Jody’s this week.” She hadn’t come out of the room yet, and thankfully hadn’t seen anything incriminating. I hastily started tucking my shirt back in. I glanced at Cas and mouthed,  _ I’m so sorry. _ Then I pointed at his shirt that was a wild mess.

 

He started tucking it back in. He mouthed back something like,  _ Should I go? _ He pointed at the door. I glanced back toward Alex’s room and shrugged. I wanted to say no, but it would be awkward, and we couldn’t exactly proceed according to plan. He walked up to me and let his hand drag up my arm. His eyes held a promise that there’d be a next time, then he was out the door.

 

Suddenly, Alex was in the room. “I thought you left just then. Heard the door close.”

 

“No, I was just closing it.” I went to the kitchen to clean up the evidence of the pie, but she was at my back. 

 

“You have pie.”

 

“Why are you here?” I glanced at her over my shoulder.

 

“Wow, you want me to leave? Thought I lived here too.” She practically tossed herself onto the stool positioned at the counter. 

 

“Sorry,” I said as I came to her side. “Is something wrong though?”

 

“I’m just having a mini-life crisis. I need to not make a big thing of it. I mean, it’s all new, so it shouldn’t matter, right?”

 

I settled a hand on her shoulder, and said, “Maybe if you spelled things out for me a little more, I might be able to offer up some advice.”

 

She was looking at me funny all of a sudden. “Holy fucking shit, Pops!” She had her hand on my jaw. “Holy, goddamn shit.”

 

I jerked my jaw away from her. “What’re you going on about?”

 

“You’ve got a damn hickey on your neck.” She was pointing now. “It’s fresh. I’m entirely grossed out right now.” She was laughing. “So, who’s been marking up my dad?” Shit, shit, shit. I mean, I’m not entirely against lying if necessary, but there was no easy lie to give right now. Maybe avoidance. I could just head to my room. Yeah, that’s the plan. I started off toward the room, but she called out, “So, Cas brought you some pie and sucked on your neck like a vampire huh?”

 

“Alex, please…”

 

“I mean, it was obviously Cas. The evidence is right here in pie form. Besides, who else would you start rounding the bases with so quickly. You ain’t no hussy.” She was laughing. “Claire’s gonna love this.”

 

I turned back to her. “I thought you needed life crisis advice, not rip on your dad time.” It was the best I could do at the moment.

 

“Oh, no, I’m good now. You fixed everything.” She hacked off a chunk of the pie, slid it onto a plate, and retreated with it to her room. “I’m totally going to tell Claire. You might want to text your boyfriend and warn him.”

 

“You suck. Also, he’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“So you are a hussy. You gonna just let any random guy suck your neck like that?”

 

“I guess so. I’m just all about the random hook-ups, ya know?” I was irritated. She was going to make this awkward. Also, Cas was so not a random guy. He was the guy, the stuff of legend. I needed to find a way to recreate this evening without the interruption. 

 

“Well, if that makes it easier for ya. Regardless, I’m heading off to bed. If you wanna talk about your totally not random hook-up, I’ll be here.” She winked and wandered off with her pie. I took the rest of the tin to my room with a fork and turned on the TV. I would eat my feelings. This pie was damn good. I pulled out my phone and saw that I’d missed a message. 

 

Cas: Let me know if you get free later. I’ll be up all night.

 

Dean: you and me both

 

Dean: she’s staying and she saw the little present you left me

 

Cas: I left too quickly to grab the pie. Sorry.

 

Dean: I was referring to my neck.

 

The minutes that passed seemed long. I wasn’t mad. I was just frustrated.

 

Cas: Sorry.

 

That was it. I guess this was awkward now. Well, shit.


	10. Cas' December

We didn’t see each other for a week, but I sure heard enough about the situation from literally everyone. Claire had all the advice I never wanted. She even told me that leaving hickeys on a date was just rude, and that I’d be lucky if Dean wanted to see me again. I just rolled my eyes. She slugged me after that and declared that she was just kidding. Great, a real joker. She then told me that I needed to set up another date with him, maybe immediately. 

 

I didn’t have any intention of setting anything up with him when it seemed like they’d be in the way. Not much worse than having your kids all involved in your love life. Dating life. It’s way too soon to be saying the big L word. 

 

It was hard doing normal things, like sleeping, walking by his place on my way to work, thinking. Seriously, everything was all Dean, Dean, Dean. The shower and I were on a first name basis now, given the amount of intimate time I spent in there. Dean corrupted my normal the moment his lips were on me. I wasn't focused anymore. I just kept waiting for the moment to come when I could see him again. Saturday seemed like it might be possible. I heard Claire saying that she’d drive Jack down to Berkeley to do the campus tour. Somehow he had never done it. She mentioned that she’d drag Alex along. The whole thing sounded quite promising. 

 

I offered to go, but they seemed utterly uninterested in my tagging along. Once the plans were firmly in place, I texted Dean.

 

Cas: The kids are all heading to Berkeley on Saturday for a campus tour.

 

He replied almost immediately. 

 

Dean: I’ve got a night shift at the pub.

 

Cas: Does that mean that your day is clear?

 

Dean: It does

 

I wondered if he would just take the bull by the horns here, and tell me what worked. I needed a little direction here. I didn’t want to intrude on him when he was going to have a late night at work. At the same time, the thought of not seeing him was completely unpalatable. 

 

Dean: So are you going to come over?

 

Yes! I should have texted that back immediately. Instead, I did an embarrassing little happy dance in my room. I was lucky no one saw that. I’m not a good dancer. 

 

Dean: I mean if you want to come over I’m going to be here

 

Cas: Yes, I want to come over.

 

Then I had to play it cool. Wouldn’t want to seem too eager. 

 

Cas: I do have to make the blueberry pie.

 

Dean: so I get more pie

 

Cas: Yes.

 

Dean: How’d I get so lucky?

 

I had so many jokes concerning Christmas and being good all year. They all sounded really creepy though each time I typed them as a reply. Instead, I went the emoji path. Safe.

 

Cas: ;0

 

Shit. That was not the emoji I intended. It looked like a gaping mouth, a winking gaping mouth. It implied things. Okay, I was just being ridiculous. Well, he hadn't replied. Maybe I needed to do something, say something. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

 

Cas: So, what time should I come over?

 

Dean: As soon as they leave.

 

A few moments passed. I felt my heartbeat kick up a notch. I was going to see Dean tomorrow. I was going to maybe almost definitely have sex with Dean tomorrow. I needed to get blueberries and tequila. Man liked his pie. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.

 

* * *

 

 

So, blueberries were expensive. Apparently, this was why we don’t see tons of blueberry pies at Christmas. I got what was needed anyway just after the kids left. I was at Dean’s door by 1:00, arms filled with grocery bags. I maybe overdid it, but I wanted it to go well. I peered at him over the bags as he opened the door. “Hey, Cas. That you behind all that pie stuff?” He was smiling at me, and we’d likely have had a more intimate greeting if I hadn’t loaded up on groceries.

 

“Hello, Dean.” He took a bag from me and waved me in. 

 

“Let’s just set these on the counter here. You can tell me if I have the right pots and pans for this.” He had a bunch of stuff set out, from pie tins to rolling pins. Yes, multiple rolling pins. He’s cute.

 

I set the bag down and went to him. “I missed you.” I crowded him up against the back counter.

 

“Well, feeling’s mutual.” He leaned into me and we kissed. It was gentle, and not hurried. I felt his arms curl around me more like a hug than anything we’d been doing last week. The kiss ended slowly too. He pressed his forehead to mine, and we just stood like that, staring at each other. “I’ve come to some conclusions.”

 

“Oh, really? What sorts of conclusions?” I gave him a quick peck of a kiss, because it had been nearly a full minute since we’d kissed, and I needed to revisit the press of him. It made him smile. I kissed that smile of his too.

 

“I don’t think we need to be concerned about the kids knowing, and if they want to meddle, well, I just don’t care.” He raked his hand up into my hair.

 

“Okay, but dinner might be a bit much with all the family there.”

 

“Don’t care.”

 

“You aren’t concerned about how they’re going to make all sorts of comments?” I had been kind of hoping that we’d figure something out. The past week had been a little awful.

 

“Well, I don’t want to be doing stuff all over the house when Alex is right there in the next room. That would be awkward, but I do want to have you around, a lot.” He kissed me quick. “I also like that you are so into this whole pie making experience. I want to have you here as often as you get the pie making urge.”

 

“So this is purely selfish? You want me around for my pies.” I raked my hand up into his hair now, and his eyes seemed to darken.

 

“I’d like to believe that you might enjoy some things about this too.” He kissed me again, this time deeper.

 

“Too bad the kids aren’t staying overnight,” I breathed out between moments.

 

“I don’t work until 7:00. We have time. Plus, they’re teenagers. They shouldn’t be staying in the city unsupervised.” Dean separated from me and started pulling the groceries out of the bags and setting them on the counter.

 

“I know. I didn’t really mean it. That was not my brain talking.” I helped with the groceries. Dean set the bags on the edge of the counter for me to use later. “So, how much do you want to help?”

 

“Oh, I’m down with the helping. I can’t say I’ll be of much use, but if you tell me what to do, I’m good at following orders.” 

 

“I’ll have you run the dough through the food processor, then you can get it into the fridge.” I started measuring out the ingredients for the dough and dumping them into the food processor. Dean watched like he was attempting to memorize the steps. “So, I’m going to have you process this, and add the milk mixture to it a little at a time.”

 

“Can I mess this up?”

 

“Not really.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek to reassure him. He got to work. I started going through the blueberries looking for any errant stems that didn’t get removed. I washed them off when I was done, and turned my attention back to Dean. “Now take the dough out and set in on parchment paper.”

 

“Oh, I don’t have parchment paper.” He looked suddenly concerned.

 

“I brought some. It’s right there.” I pointed at the little roll on the edge of the counter. He went to it and unrolled some. “You’re going to flour the rolling pin and roll out the dough onto the parchment paper. It’s going into the fridge like this when you’re done.”

 

“Okay, I’ve got this.” He sounded nervous.

 

“Don’t worry. If you want, we could trade jobs.”

 

“Nope, I’ve got this. I told you about how I have never made a proper pie crust before, right?”

 

“It’s why I thought this was the job for you.” He got the dough on the parchment and started working it. It was a clumsy effort to say the least. I would have to step in if he was going to have salvageable dough. It wouldn’t do for it to be out too long, getting overworked and warm. I stopped working with the filling and moved to Dean’s back. I set my chin on his shoulder and watched him work.

 

I slid my hands up his back to his shoulders, then down his arms to his hands. “You’re distracting.”

 

“You complaining?” I kissed into his neck a little.

 

“Not a bit.”

 

I guided his hands through the dough preparation. I made him remold it into a ball, then we rolled it flat. It was a little overworked, but it would be fine. I pressed in closer to him as we worked and listened to his little hitch of a breath as I did so. He leaned back into me. I gave him a bit of attention along his jawline before stepping away. The dough had to go in the fridge after all.

 

“You want to help with the filling, or just watch?” I went back to the blueberries.

 

“Oh, I’ll help.” He came up behind me now and settled his chin on my shoulder. “Is this helping?” I could feel him smiling into my neck. 

 

“Very much.” I continued working. I mixed the blueberries, tequila, lemon juice, and cornstarch in a bowl. I hadn’t zested a lemon yet, but in my defence, Dean was distracting. “Hand me that zester over there.” Dean broke free from my back and got the tool. He came right back to his place at my back though. He handed me the tool, and then wrapped his arms around my waist. I was pretty sure that I might have to give up the pie.

 

“That’s some top shelf tequila there.” His words were warm over my ear.

 

“Yes, it is. I may have been trying to impress you when I went shopping.” I poured him a shot and handed it up to him over my shoulder.

 

“You already impress me.” He took the shot though and drank it. “Yeah, this is good stuff.” He set the shot glass back on the counter and poured it full again. “Here.” He lifted it to my lips and I drank it down. It was a little messy since he had control of the glass. My hands were a little occupied with the filling preparations.

 

I was zesting the lemon, when his hands came back to my waist. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of my jeans. They felt like a reminder of where his hands could go. I stirred the filling. The clock on the wall told me that I’d already been here for two hours. How long had we kissed at the counter? How long had we been preparing the pie? It just didn’t feel like that much time. 

 

I gave the filling one last stir then turned toward Dean. “The dough needs ten more minutes.” I pushed him back to the other counter and kissed him. He opened his mouth just a little, and I swept in. He moaned into the kiss. I hadn’t realized it, but I had my hand in his hair again. He certainly liked that. 

 

He was already rucking up my shirt, getting his hands onto my skin. He was warm, which reminded me that I needed to turn on the oven. I pulled away. “What?”

 

“I gotta start warming the oven.” I set the temperature and turned it on. “See, barely a break.” I got back up close to him.

 

“You’re going to do that again when the dough is ready right?”

 

“Do what?” I did my best to read him.

 

“I think we should hold off on this until the pie is in the oven. I think uninterrupted this,” he waved his hand between us, “would be the best possible thing.”

 

I pressed in close to him again. My chest sat firmly against his. I nipped at his bottom lip then sucked it into my mouth. “Okay.” I smiled as I turned away from him. Somehow he managed to get a dish towel and he snapped it at me as I moved away from him. “Oh.”

 

He looked just as pleased as you’d guess. I got out the dough. I decided to prepare it quicker. Our time was running out, and I needed to get my hands on him again. He kept his distance though. He watched me set the dough into the tin. He watched me set the filling in. I made a nice little lattice for the top. After it was done cooking, I’d make the creme anglaise. I brushed the top of the pie with an egg white, and sprinkled it with some sugar. It looked quite good.

 

I got it in the oven, and turned my attention back to Dean. “You have a timer?”

 

He opened a drawer and pulled out a digital timer. “Here.” 

 

I set it for 35 minutes. “I like cooking in your kitchen. It’s much easier to work in than mine.”

 

Dean moved closer and took the timer from my hands. “Is this how long we have before the next interruption?”

 

“Yes,” I said as I dragged a hand up to his shoulder. 

 

“We could maybe work with that.” He set down the timer and took my hand. He pulled me along to the couch. We sat down close. “I would love to think that I could get you out of some of these layers.”

 

“Oh, you can. I have faith in you.” We both laughed.

 

“I’m thinking that I’ll get your shirt off, then that timer will go off, and we’ll be on to making the creamy angel sauce.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You said that there was a sauce.”

 

“Do you mean creme anglaise?” I decided to start unbuttoning my shirt. His eyes tracked my movements.

 

“Yeah, that’s what you called it.” He licked his lips as I slipped out of the shirt. “Well, that took less time than I thought.”

 

“I live to serve.” I watched him pull his own shirt up over his head. He dropped it to the floor. “Worth the wait.” 

 

He reached out then and pulled me toward him in a way that made me slide onto my back. He moved a bit and hovered over me before diving down to my mouth. We laid there like that, kissing each other, and letting our hands roam. There were too many pants being worn in this situation. This should be a pants-free situation. He wedged a hand down between us, and palmed at me with what I thought was purpose. 

 

Dean was running his lips over my neck. He was making a path to my chest, and I was sure where he was heading. I approved. I wholeheartedly approved. There was a knock at the door. Dean’s head popped up, and he looked to the door. “If we ignore it, whoever it is will go away,” he whispered.

 

“I absolutely agree with this plan,” I whispered back. 

 

The knocking continued, then a voice called out past the door. “Dean, I saw your car down there. Don’t make me pick the damn lock.”

 

“Shit, it’s my brother.” Dean got up and started putting clothes back on. This was the exact opposite of what he should be doing right now. “He’ll do it. You should throw the shirt back on before he barges in.”

 

“Will he stay long?” I hated sounding disappointed. This was his brother after all.

 

“Here’s to hoping not.” Dean winked at me as he went to the door. “I’m coming. Be patient, ya dumb moose.”

 

He cast a glance back at me to make sure I was presentable. I did up the last button and waited for the door to open. Dean gave me a little nod then opened the door. “Took you long enough.” He wasn’t alone.

 

“Hey Eileen, Sam. Did I know you were coming today?”

 

“Did I need an appointment?” Then Sam saw me on the couch. Eileen signed something to Sam, and his face lit up. “Oh, sorry. We’ll come back another time.”

 

Eileen set a hand on his arm and then said, “Actually, we had a small issue at the house.”

 

“What happened?” Dean asked.

 

Sam wasn’t sticking with the conversation though. He walked over to the couch. He was holding a suitcase. “You’re the pie guy.” He was pointing at me.

 

I got up and rounded the couch to him. “Most people call me Cas.” I held out my hand to him. He reached out with his free hand, and we shook. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

Sam was all smiles as he turned back to Dean. “So this is the guy that Alex was telling us about. He’s the one you’ve been all nervous over.”

 

I glanced at Dean. He looked like he wanted to die. “I make you nervous?”

 

“Oh, shit. I need to stop,” Sam said.

 

Eileen stepped further into the room and set a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you do.” She reached out and took my hand. “Lovely to meet you. We’ve heard a lot of good things about you from both Alex and Claire.”

 

“That’s nice to hear.” Dean closed the front door and came to my side. 

 

“You don’t make me nervous. My family, especially this one, has little to no sense.” Dean directed his stare at Sam and said, “So, what’s the deal? Why are you showing up here with suitcases?”

 

“We were getting the floors redone, and it was only supposed to take two days,” Eileen started. She glanced at Sam then back at Dean. “Well, Sam picked a smooth talker to do the floors. Turns out that he’s going to need a full week to get them done.”

 

Sam said, “In my defence, Marv totally sounded convincing. He was so confident that this was going to take zero time. I should have known better. Just the drying time alone should be more than two days.”

 

“So, you tried to go home, and learned the truth,” Dean supplied. “How does that land you here?”

 

“We were staying at the Marriott, but we checked out to go home. Well, we went back to just get our room again, but they are all booked up for the Dickens’ Festival thing. We can totally get in after the weekend though.” Sam looked a little sincere. “Or we can just get out of your hair and stay someplace a bit outside of town. It’ll just be a little shlep.”

 

Dean sighed, “Nah, what’s the point of having a guest room if you don’t use it? Go toss your stuff in there.” The timer went off. Dean turned to me. “Looks like the pie is ready, pie guy.” He smiled.

 

Sam and Eileen went to the guest room with their bags, and took a fair amount of time coming back out. Dean ran a hand up my back as I walked to the oven. “Hopefully they like blueberry pie,” I said.

 

“Who cares what they like. We might just have to eat the whole thing ourselves. Ya know, eat our feelings or something like that.” Dean sat on the stool and watched me pull the pie from the oven.

 

“It really does need the creme anglaise. Would it be weird if I stayed and made that before leaving?”

 

“Wait,” Dean got up and boxed me into the counter. “Stay.”

 

“It just seems like it might be awkward.”

 

“Everything with us is awkward. Why should we let that stop us from spending some quality time with pie together?” He dipped in and kissed me. 

 

Sam came in then, of course. He cleared his throat and took a seat at the other end of the counter. Eileen sat next to him. She asked, “So, how long have you two been a thing?”

 

I glanced at Dean and hoped he’d answer. He didn’t. “We had our first date about a week ago. This was our second.” I started pulling out the ingredients for the creme anglaise. It would give my hands something to do if I just focused on the cooking.

 

“How nice. It’s about time Dean started settling down,” Sam reached across the counter and gave Dean a little shoulder slug. 

 

“You’re an idiot.” Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“Do you like blueberry pie?” I asked.

 

Before they could answer, Dean said, “It has tequila in it.”

 

Eileen’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you are speaking my language. Tell me we get to try it.”

 

Dean said, “Maybe. If you can keep Sam from embarrassing me, then we might be able to arrange for a pie transfer.”

 

“And your favorite brother would totally be unable to embarrass you if his mouth was full of tequila pie,” Sam said with a giant, shiteating grin.

 

Eileen reached across the counter and shook Dean’s hand. “Deal. Sam will be on his best behavior.”

 

They were all kinds of cute together. I had to laugh at them a bit. I made the creme anglaise while Sam and Dean talked about the flooring guy. He sounded like a real ass. Eileen offered to help with the sauce making, but it was really just a one person job. I poured her a shot of the tequila, which she happily accepted. Sam came over and said, “One time when Dean and I got into Jody’s tequila…” Eileen slugged his shoulder, and he stopped talking.

 

“No,” she smiled. “You are not messing up my chance at blueberry tequila pie. Save the family story for much later.”

 

“Thank you Eileen.” Dean started getting out plates and forks for the pie. He pulled out a knife too. I was just about done with the creme anglaise. He asked, “Should I dish them up?”

 

“Yes, I’ll spoon the sauce over the slices.” We made a good team. I could get use to this type of domesticity.

 

We slid the first two slices over to Eileen and Sam. Dean slid one over to his spot, and I set up the last slice for myself. Dean pulled out another stool and motioned for me to sit there. It was right next to him. We’d be pretty crowded together. It was nice. It’d be nicer if we were alone. Sam and Eileen were nice though, I was just being a bit selfish. Dean moaned around his first bite. “This is maybe the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

 

“Better than the pie from Thanksgiving?” I had to ask.

 

“This one wins. It is amazing.” 

 

Eileen said, “It is really good.”

 

Sam said, “I’d compare it to the other pie, but someone said that we didn’t deserve that pie.” He shot a meaningful look at Dean. 

 

“You didn’t. Next time you’ll think about your words.” Dean grumbled around a rather large bite of the pie.

 

The afternoon flew by into early evening, and the pie was thoroughly eaten. Dean got ready for work, and I busied myself in the kitchen, cleaning up before, I too would go. I bagged up some things to take home. Dean came out of his room and ran a hand through his hair. “Mind if I walk you to work?”

 

“Was hoping you would.” Dean leaned past me and said to Sam and Eileen who were comfortably stationed on the couch, “I’ll be home late. I think Alex will be here around 8 or 9.”

 

“Okay,” Sam got up and walked us to the door. He held out a hand to me. “It was nice meeting you.” I shook his hand. “And thanks for the pie.”

 

“Anytime.” I smiled back at him and headed out the door with Dean.

 

We walked in companionable silence until we were out of the building. “Sorry.” Dean leaned into me a little as we walked.

 

“Not your fault. Besides, it just means we still have something to look forward to.” I bumped into his side a little. The pub was on the other side of the block. We rounded one corner then the next. It was just a little before 7, and I was already feeling a little saddened by the fact that this was the end of our evening.

 

Dean took my hand. “Come ‘ere.” He pulled me into the small alleyway between the pub and the next business. He pressed against me, chest to thighs. He held my face in his hands. “I’m really sorry things didn’t go differently.” He kissed me. His stubble was coming back. I’d have to shave him soon, or let it be. I was maybe just looking for opportunities to touch him more. He had his own hands running to the back of my head now, cradling it from the brick at my back.

 

His thigh pressed between my legs, and the friction there was good, too good. I needed to drag him home with me. I needed us to go someplace, anyplace that wasn’t this alley or his too full apartment. “Dean.” It was maybe my whole vocabulary now. He was everything. 

 

He slipped free of me though, panting my name. “I have to go to work.”

 

“Work is overrated.” I moved back to him, and had him against the opposite wall. He let me taste him again. He let the kiss linger longer than he should have. I made him late to work. I ended the kiss. “I’m sorry. Don’t get fired.”

 

“I won’t.” He tried to keep the moment. He glanced back out to the street. “I really do have to go though.”

 

“Text me when you get off work. I’ll try to stay awake.”

 

“Absolutely.” He gave me a quick peck and dashed out of the alley. The feeling and the taste of him lingered. I’d carry the electricity of him with me all the way home.


	11. Dean's December

Dean: I’m off now. You still up?

 

It was pretty late. I waited for him to respond but got nothing. It was fine. It wasn’t like he could come over here or anything. The apartment was quiet when I returned to it. Everyone was asleep, and there was evidence of Alex’s return. 

 

I crawled into bed and slipped my hand under the pillow next to me. There was a crinkle of paper. I slid my hand back out, clutching my finding. I flicked on the light. 

 

_ Dean, _

 

_ I am certain that this is heading somewhere. Physically, this has been one of the most intense build ups I think anyone could experience. I think it matters though that you know that it is more than that for me. I don’t dive into men’s beds easily. I want to dive into yours though. I want to dive into it and never get out of it.  _

 

_ I just thought it needed to be said, in case you think that I am viewing this casually. I hope that doesn’t freak you out. I hope that for you too, this isn’t a casual thing. The fact that it’s not, for me, makes the interruptions a little more bearable.  _

 

_ Looking forward to a night sometime in the not too distant future when all of our loved ones will be pleasantly occupied, and we too will be pleasantly occupied together. _

 

_ Cas _

 

Dean: Just found your note. This is far from casual. I want to wake up with you.

 

I hoped that he understood what that meant coming from me. It meant that I wouldn’t leave him, and he’d be there for me. It meant that it was about more than the sex. It was about sharing the meals together, talking, proximity. I considered driving to his place, but I’d never been there before. It was also getting close to 3:00 am, and normal people sleep then.

 

I could just sleep. Maybe tomorrow we could figure out how to get time together.

 

* * *

 

 

The week passed. Sam and Eileen seemed in no danger of going home. Marv was apparently meticulous. His part of the work didn’t get done until nearly Friday. Then there was the drying time. I could have sent them off to a hotel, but at this point that just seemed rude. The house was packed with people. Sam and Eileen were on the couch. Claire and Alex were sprawled on the floor wrapping gifts to put under the tree that had been added to the apartment this past week.

 

Cas and I had texted a bit this week to just get each other through the hard times. I kept hoping that we’d figure out how to meet up. It was almost Christmas though, and with that came even more family time, as if family time wasn’t already a constant. I needed some damn me time. Actually, I needed some me and Cas time. Very naked. Good plan, Dean.

 

I snagged my mug of coffee from the counter and stepped out onto the fire escape. It was one of the few quiet places left. I let the warm, earthy steam waft up to my face as I watched the empty street below. Taylor’s was already bustling, but there weren’t any cars rolling by. The salon was dark. It was around 10 though, so that made sense. 

 

Then I saw Jack rounding the corner. He was heading for the salon. He glanced up at me and waved. I waved back and looked to the corner for Cas. Jack was alone though. I did the math. Jack was at the shop. That plus Claire and Alex in the house equals a Cas at home alone. I whipped out my phone.

 

Dean: You’re home alone, right?

 

A full minute passed. I was ready to head to his house on foot, just slide down the ladder here and make a run for it. 

 

Cas: I am. How’d you know?

 

Dean: Just saw Jack heading to the salon. The girls are here.

 

Cas: I’ve had almost an hour to myself. It has been oddly quiet.

 

I found that fact frustrating. An hour? We could have done so much with an hour. 

 

Dean: I’m coming over.

 

Cas: Then you’ll be greeted by an empty house. I’ve got three appointments today. In fact, I’m heading out now.

 

Dean: This sucks.

 

Cas: Sucking would be an improvement in this situation.

 

Well great. Now I had that mental image to contend with. I let myself sink down into a kind of sitting posture, back to the brick wall. I could at least watch for him. He eventually rounded the corner from where he parked. I set down the coffee and took the fire escape down to the curb. He crossed over to meet me. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

 

“I swear, half the time we’re apologizing to each other.” I kissed him quick. “Nothing to apologize for. Besides, you probably have some long lost aunt that would come by just as things started getting interesting.”

 

“Pretty sure I don’t have a long lost aunt.” He tipped his head back and added, “Well, I do have an estranged brother, and a sister-in-law. I guess they could pop by for some coitus interruptus.” 

 

We at least laughed about that. I pulled him back close and kissed him again. A noise from above, alerted me to our audience. The kiss ended and I looked up. They were all on the fire escape. Sam, Eileen, Alex, and Claire. Did they seriously have nothing better to do? “There’s a TV in my house. Go get your entertainment there.”

 

“But this is better,” Claire called down. “Young love.” Then she laughed. “Okay, maybe not young.” I wished for snow, so I could pelt her. That might not win me any points with Cas though. 

 

“I better head to work. My client should be in soon.” Cas moved away from me. I gave him a little wave as he headed back across the street. He was wearing shorts. It was 60 degrees out. His legs looked great though. It was another reason to be grateful for California winters.

 

I looked up to my fire escape. My family was retreating back into the apartment, having done their damage. I had plans though. The Christmas Eve dinner was a big old family gathering. We ate, exchanged gifts, and enjoyed each other’s company. By midnight, everyone was gone. Even Alex had a tradition of going home with Jody. Sam and Eileen would go back to their place. Now if Jack and Claire went home too, why wouldn’t they, then I would have an empty apartment. Cas could stay. We could have our own little Christmas celebration. Of course, I’d try for sooner, but I was not full of hope on that front. I just had to make sure that people were actually going to leave.


	12. Cas' December

Dean's body pressed behind me. He breathed warm over my ear. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me back ever more into his body. He was in my bed, and finally, finally we were together. He stroked me as he kissed into the space where my neck met my shoulder.

 

“Dean, Dean,” I whispered into the dark room.

 

“I've got you,” he whispered back. He pressed himself between my thighs and rolled his hips. He matched the rhythm of his hand on me. I was close to tumbling over the edge with him. His thrusts became erratic. I wanted more, but this way was quicker.

 

I rolled over though, and took my body momentarily away. The small whine he made almost made me feel guilty. I fumbled for the lube on the nightstand and squeezed some into my hand. “I want to look at you.” It was apparently enough explanation.

 

Dean sat up, and my legs wrapped around him. We faced each other like this. I dropped my hand between us, and took hold of us both at once. Dean surged toward me and kissed me just like he had in the alley, with a desperation that made me writhe even more against him.

 

“Cas,” he said in that groaning way that he had. I reached for his head and snaked my fingers back into his hair. I'd coax more pleasant noises from him. And like that he was spilling over the edge with me. He kissed me gently after that as our bodies rode out the moments that followed.

 

A sudden piercing noise flooded the room. Dean faded with the dream. My alarm was going off. I barely sat up to look at it, but it flashed the time, 2:30 am. Why the hell would I set the alarm for that time? I turned it off and went back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Morning came and with it the sudden realization that I did not text Dean after his shift at the pub. I'd even set an alarm. As consciousness took over, I realized that my body has perhaps enjoyed some explicit dreams last night. 

 

Well, at least dream me was getting lucky. I got up to clean up and flipped over the phone to check for messages. There were two from Dean the night before.

 

Dean: I'm off now. You still up?

 

I should have just stayed up. Then I read the next message.

 

Dean: Just found your note. This is far from casual. I want to wake up with you.

 

We were on the same page. I'd been worried that maybe this was just physical for him. He was attracted to me; that much was a given. I just needed to know that it was more. 

 

Wanting to wake up with me spoke of something quite meaningful. He wanted more too. I could fall for him. I maybe was falling for him. Over dinner, he'd shared about his upbringing, his losses. He didn't see it in himself; that much was clear, but he was a truly good man. He seemed to measure his goodness in terms that none could live up to, like he saw only the small failures in his wake.

 

He was good though. I wanted to make him see it. I wanted to just be near him. We just needed time, and maybe a touch more occasional privacy.

 

* * *

 

 

And the week that passed was no picnic. We texted, and even had a few late night phone conversations that offered up some satisfaction. At least I'd see him today, even if it's at a distance. He'd be on his fire escape, I'm sure. I'd be walking to work. Two ships passing in the afternoon, so to speak.

 

If things kept going like this, I'd be securing a room at a coastal B&B. I'd barricade the door. No family allowed within twenty miles at the least. I wondered if he even liked those sorts of places.

 

If not, we could just go to a local hotel. Maybe then I could figure out how to focus on life things again. Literally everything was all wrapped up in shades of Dean Winchester. I think this is normal. Hopefully this is normal.

 

* * *

 

 

Embarrassing. We were never going to get past this. Why did he have to make it sound like a break in? Of course they're going to call the police. 

 

I suppose I got it. It had been a long week, filled with false starts and disappointments. He texted that he could come to my place the moment the kids cleared out, and I had to disappoint him by working. All day I found myself glancing out the window at his place, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

 

Even the kiss before work had been interrupted. Then it struck me, that Jack would be leaving before me. I'd be done well after him actually. I also had a little office at the back of the shop that could accommodate us.

 

The plan was perfect, until Dean made it complicated.

 

Cas: Come to the shop at 9.

 

Dean: What's happening at 9

 

Cas: I'll be alone in the shop. I can show you my office.

 

Dean: is it 9 yet

 

Cas: Not even close:)

 

It was easy enough to get through the day after that exchange. I also had a fair number of customers to keep me busy. By eight Jack should have been leaving. Instead he took a seat at his station like he was waiting for something. “Why are you still hanging around, Jack?”

 

“Figured it was just another hour. I could walk with you to the car.” He swiveled around a little back and forth.

 

I finished up with my customer and said, “You don't need to wait for me. I have some things I want to work on in the office after we close.” Not untrue.

 

“Well okay then. Alex did say that I should come over and hang out with her and Claire. Maybe I'll take them up on it, or maybe I’ll check in on Clarke. Haven’t seen him in awhile.”

 

“That'll be much more fun than hanging out with your old man.”

 

I gave my attention to the customer and sent him on his way. He over-tipped. The holidays were good for that. With Jack gone, I cleaned up, and turned off the outer lights. I left the light on in the office.

 

At 9 on the button, Dean was at the door. I let him in. “Thought it would never be 9. Why didn't we think of this place before?”

 

I dragged him back to the office. “I work here. It's kind of hard to think of it as anything but a place of business.” I pulled him close then and added, “Desperate times though…”

 

At the time I was grateful for so many things. Dean had on a t-shirt for easy removal. He'd prepped himself at home, which would normally have felt like cheating, but tonight not so much.

 

I had him sprawled out on my desk panting my name when the cops showed up.

 

Embarrassing. It took some explaining. Luckily, I was allowed to find my pants and show my ID. Apparently, Dean's hasty explanation to his family about why he was leaving ended up sounding like he was investigating a break in at the salon. If only Jack had gone over, then he could have explained.

 

Unfortunately, he decided to go hang out with Clarke instead. So Sam and the girls worried, and when Dean didn't come out, they called the police. Under normal circumstances I would be grateful. This though, this, was maybe the worst.

 

And it shouldn't matter, but we didn't even get to the goal. It really shouldn't matter, but if it's going to be embarrassing at least we could have had that. The universe was not our friend. I don't think I'll be going to the Christmas gathering. There's no way I can show my face after this.


	13. Dean's Christmas Eve

It was difficult hearing Cas say that he wouldn’t be coming to dinner. We had Claire’s mom, Amelia showing up. We had Alex and Jody, Donna, Sam and Eileen. The house was filling up fast. They’d all be going home after too, so I’d finally have some peace and quiet to contemplate how lonely I was. We hadn’t really talked about what had happened. I mean, I apologized, profusely.

 

He said he wouldn’t come to the dinner. He said he couldn’t face them. I got that. It was pretty awkward even without all of the jokes that they’d make at our expense. Alex kept looking at me pityingly. She had put up mistletoe all over the house. I figured she was making a display of her hopes. A few others were set to show up later in the evening too. Supposedly Jody’s friend Asa was going to stop by. Bobby and Ellen were set to make an appearance too. There’d be plenty to be distracted by if I just let myself.

 

I pulled the ham out of the oven at 6 to Oohs and Ahs. I put on a smile and got people situated at the table. Alex came to my side. “I’m sorry we screwed things up.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” I gave her head a little ruffle. She half-heartedly pushed me away. Claire was leaning into a doorframe by Alex’s room. She was texting someone. “Your girlfriend is standing under the mistletoe, and her mom isn’t looking.” I nodded toward Claire.

 

“Turn away, and I’ll do something about it.” She winked and headed toward Claire. I sort of turned away. Alex was smooth. She just dipped right into the kiss. Claire was still holding her phone, but her hand dropped to her side. Her other hand slipped up to Alex’s waist. Alex was smiling as she stepped away. 

 

I whistled at them from across the room. I mostly just wanted to supply them with a tiny measure of awkward payback. It was the least I could do. Alex leveled a glare at me, then returned her attention to Claire. They stood close and looked down at Claire’s phone together. They were both quite serious. Within moments, their expressions shifted into something much more pleasant. Then they both came to the table to feast with the family. 

 

Jody was the official ham carver, since she was the one that brought this rag tag group together. We all passed around the many assorted bowls and platters, taking what we wanted as it came to us. I lamented the lack of pie, and the fact that I just couldn’t hand off the task to someone else. I only really wanted the pie that Cas made.

 

Time passed and Claire got up and came to my side. “Dean.” She came down into a squat next to my seat. 

 

“Yeah. What’s up?”

 

“I may have meddled a little.” She held up two hands, likely because my irritation was on full display.

 

“No,” it was all I could say.

 

“Nothing bad, but it was meddling. And now, I think you need to know so that you can make it okay?” She sounded rather earnest. No one was paying attention to our little conversation, well no one except for Alex, who was casting furtive looks our way from the other end of the table.

 

“What’d you and Alex do?”

 

She licked her lips and swallowed before she answered. “I told Cas that you didn’t have pies. I told him that you didn’t have anyone bring pies, because you likely hoped that he’d change his mind about coming to dinner.”

 

“That’s true,” I offered.

 

“So, I told him that the only right thing to do would be to bring pie over for you and the rest of the guests.” 

 

“And I’m sure he politely declined.”

 

Claire glanced down to Alex then back at me. “Well, not exactly.”

 

“Explain.” 

 

“He said he’d drop off pies and then text when they were here, so that we could bring them inside from the hall.” She looked back at Alex again and added, “He’s going to be here any minute.”

 

“Well, he doesn’t want to be in an awkward situation.”

 

Claire gave my arm a little squeeze and said, “Then when you meet him out in the hall, you best be making it hella comfortable for him.” She winked, and made her way back to her seat.

 

I gave myself a ten count before I lifted my napkin to my lips, carefully wiped them, and then pushed back from the table. I glanced at the door, then back at the girls. They looked hopeful. I got up and went to the door. 

 

On the other side, was a stacked set of containers. Cas had already dropped them off and left. Of course he would tell the girls that he was a few minutes out. I bent down and picked up the boxes. I carried them into the kitchen. The girls saw me. They looked sadly down at their plates. I walked to my window and ducked out onto the fire escape.

 

It was chilly. My breath wafted up in little steam puffs. I looked to the salon, hoping to see a light there. It was dark. There was movement below me though. Cas. He was walking to the corner on my side of the street. I immediately made the climb down to the street. He saw me and waited. 

 

I walked to him, and paused well within his personal space. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

 

“Same to you, Dean.” Our knuckles brushed a little. 

 

“Come home with me.” I had to try. He just shook his head  _ no _ . “I’m miserable without you.”

 

He looked unhappy about that proclamation. “I’m miserable too. I miss you.”

 

I reached up and cupped his face in my hand. “It’s Christmas, Cas. Come home with me.” I had to try again. He didn’t shake his head  _ no _ , but he also didn’t agree either. He needed more convincing. “They’re all going to different homes tonight. I’ll be all alone.”

 

“I doubt that very much. The one thing I’ve learned in all of this is that we both have an abundance of family with nothing more to do than to insert themselves into every facet of our lives.” He laughed a little and added, “No, Dean, you won’t be alone. They’ll all stay the night, and maybe the entire police force will stop in too.”

 

“I’ll kick them all out. No matter what, I only want you in the house tonight.” I dipped my head to get some eye contact with him. “I need you, Cas. Please.”

 

He leaned toward me and rested his forehead on my chest. “Okay Dean.”

 

I wrapped my arms around him. “You’ll come home with me?”

 

“Yes.” He leaned back and looked at me. “I suppose I maybe need you too.”

 

I couldn’t contain the deep joy I was feeling. I threw my arm over his shoulders and led him back to my home. It was a good moment. It was what the holidays should be.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the dinner was something close to joy. Cas sat at my side, his leg pressed against mine, and not one person had a single thing to say. There was a merry bit of banter, and even a few stories from Bobby that ended up making fun of Sam for a change. Sam didn’t even seem to mind. He laughed right with us all.

 

When dinner was done, we gathered around the tree and passed around presents. I got Alex a new toolkit for her car. She got me a few books I’d been wanting. Sam started to hand me a gift, glanced at Cas and then said, “I’m putting this in your room. Don’t open it ‘til later.”

 

“Okay, nothing weird about that.” 

 

“Consider this one act of mercy your real present.” Sam stalked off toward the room, present in hand. He came back and took his seat next to Eileen. 

 

The evening went well. Cas and I had talked about keeping it simple. I worried that we could end up making ourselves nuts just trying to figure out what to get each other. We also decided to exchange our gifts later, after the crowds had dispersed. 

 

“Anyone want pie while they open gifts,” Cas asked the group. Several voices answered, so Cas was up and getting the pie cut.

 

I was still in charge of handing out the gifts or I would have joined him. He stood in my kitchen, comfortable, like he belonged there. I must have been staring for awhile. Alex came up to my side and whispered in my ear. “Your boyfriend is standing under the mistletoe.”

 

I looked at her and said, “Thanks to your efforts this morning, everyone is constantly under the mistletoe.” 

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t make the rules. Cas shouldn’t miss out because you’re a grumpy dude.”

 

“Well, if you look away, I might deal with this situation properly.” I got up and started to walk to the kitchen. I shot a glance her way, and she quickly averted her eyes. “Good, you just stay like that pipsqueak.” It was an old term of endearment that earned me a wide, genuine smile. I’d miss her so much, even with the meddling.

 

Cas was still working on the pie, when I moved into his space. “Did you come to help me with this.” I took the knife out of his hand and set it on the counter. “I kind of needed that.”

 

“You’re under the mistletoe.” I pointed at it. Then I leaned down and gave him what was supposed to be a quick, gentle kiss. Instead, he pulled me in, and deepened it a little. I was ready for everyone to go home. Seriously, Merry Christmas. See ya all next year. Cas broke the kiss saying, “Now help me with the pie.”

 

I got out the forks and we started dishing them up. The evening was successful. Cas’ pie was praised. Everyone left with smiles on their faces. It was a good night for one and all. Cas walked around, cleaning up wrapping paper and picking up stray plates. I watched him for a moment, and thought that everything felt rather right. 

 

I crossed the room to him, as he stood next to the brightly lit tree. It made him look like he was glowing too, the way it cast its light all around him. “It’ll all still be a mess tomorrow.” I took the plate from his hand and set it back on the table. He seemed to accept that.

 

I led him back to my room. We kissed a little in the doorway because there was more mistletoe there. I released him. “Something wrong?” he asked. 

 

“I just need to go lock the front door.” I left him for a moment and took care of that. When I came back to the room, he had a wrapped package on his lap.

 

“Got you this. It’s nothing big. I promise.”

 

“Cool.” Before I came to him, I ducked into the closet and pulled out his gift. I handed it over to him. “Same here. This is just a little thing. By the way, how'd you get the present by me? You only left pies on my doorstep.”

 

“I gave it to Claire and asked her to leave it under your tree. I told her not to make a big deal out of it.” We each sat on the bed, presents in our laps, waiting for the other to open theirs. “So, you first?”

 

“No, let’s open them at the same time,” I said. He agreed with a nod and then we were both tearing into the wrapping. Well, I was tearing, and he was carefully undoing the tape at all the corners like he was going to save this paper or something. I reached over and gave it a rip, to get him over his neatness hurdle. I still got my box open first. “Oh, shit Cas. This is way awesome. It’s too much.” I reached in and pulled out the perfect Stetson cowboy hat.”

 

“It might be a bit selfish of me. I think you might look rather good in it.” I looked at him, and noticed the little blush that rose up into his cheeks. I pulled it out of the box and settled it on my head with a kind of reverence. I only just barely told him about my love of all things cowboy. He must have picked up on things in that conversation. 

 

I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. “This is a damn fine hat.”

 

“I’m very glad you like it. I’ll also be very glad if you just keep right on wearing it tonight.” I turned to him swiftly. He winked.

 

“Well, finish opening yours. You’ll see that I was maybe a little selfish too.”

 

Cas finished opening his and found the gift gently folded in the box. “A kilt?” he questioned as he started pulling it out of the box.

 

“Well, actually it’s a Utilikilt.” I just grinned at him. “There's stuff in the pockets too.”

 

“Haven't heard of a Utilikilt.” He had it spread over his lap. He smiled down at it and started examining all of the pouches and pockets. “You literally put a rolling pin in this.” He pulled out the rolling pin. “Is this a whisk?” He was feeling the outside of one of the pockets.

 

“I figured since you liked cooking so much, I’d get you some new tools and an outfit to carry them in.” I watched him get up and walk to the mirror. He held it in front of himself. It looked like it would fit him perfectly. “You should try it on.” I was hoping he'd go along with this plan.

 

“Be right back,” he said as he headed into the bathroom. I moved the boxes and wrapping paper off the bed. I tried to look casual. I likely didn’t look at all casual. He came back into the room just as I sat back down on the bed. The kilt was tan, like that trench coat he wore on Thanksgiving. He held his arms out at his sides and did a little spin. “What do you think?”

 

“You look great.” I crossed my legs. He looked really great. “Did you empty out the pockets a bit?”

 

“You certainly stocked me up.” He smiled and walked toward me. He reached out and set his hand gently on my cheek, letting his thumb stroke a lazy path there. “I may have to wear this a bit more than the other. The pockets really make the difference.”

 

I brought my hands up to his waist. My legs framed either side of him as he stood, staring down at me. “I’m glad you like it. I’ve been second guessing myself since I bought it. I mean, you only wore the other one that one time that I know of.”

 

“Jack got it for me for a reason.”

 

“Oh,” I said. “I supposed because you were maybe Scottish.”

 

“No, I’m not.” Cas raked his fingers back into my hair.

 

“Then why the kilt?” I was certainly learning new things. 

 

“His mother was Scottish.” Cas looked off to the far end of the room, like he was finding a memory there. “Jack came to me later in his life. I knew his mother when we were both younger. She left home and dealt with a lot of difficulties, an abusive relationship and what came with that. When she was going through all that, I made an effort toward keeping in touch with her. I even invited her out for holidays and sometimes she’d show up. I got to experience a lot of Jack’s growing up. We bonded with each visit.” Cas fell silent.

 

“But something happened to his mom?” 

 

“Yeah.” He looked back at me. “Getting free of someone like Jack’s biological father isn’t always easy, and sometimes damn near impossible. He caused Kelly’s death.” He looked away, and swallowed back some emotion. “Luckily, Kelly set some things up that would give me custody of Jack. No one fought it. His biological father might have, if he had not been locked up. In the end, I adopted Jack, and have raised him from the time he was ten years old.”

 

“He’s lucky to have you,” I said. I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s clear he loves you a great deal.”

 

“It took time for us to get to that place. The experiences he had were intense. Kelly somehow managed to shield him from a lot. Sometimes she even went into hiding. That kind of life is hard though for a kid. He had to grow up too fast. I’m sure you noticed that he’s not quite like other people his age. He’s a little awkward. He’s a good person though. You’d never meet a more gentle soul.”

 

“You’ve done a good job raising him. He seems great.” I squeezed his hand again and asked, “So, how did all of this land you in a kilt?”

 

Cas laughed. “I tried to do things with him that would keep Kelly alive for him. He had a genealogy project for school, so we researched her family and learned that she had a lot of family in Scotland.”

 

“Still not seeing how this gets you in a kilt, not that I’m complaining mind you.” I winked at him and settled my hands on the backs of his legs. He was all muscle. My thoughts at this point became a little unfocused. I should have just kept my hands in safer places.

 

“He had to make a presentation, and he decided that he needed a kilt. The kids were allowed to bring in their parents, and he asked if I could stand in for his mom. This led to me wearing a kilt and standing at his side.” Cas laughed again and added, “It also led to him calling me his dad, so it felt like a particularly special milestone for us. This last year, he seemed to pick up on how much things were going to be changing for me with him transferring to Berkeley and Claire heading off to college too. So, for Father’s Day, he got me a new kilt as a kind of nod at our early years.”

 

“That sounds pretty awesome.” I swallowed and found myself maybe curling my fingers into his legs just a little. The feel of him was something I wanted to keep exploring. “And here I just got you the Utilikilt because I thought you’d look damn hot in it.” Bravado solves all nervousness.

 

“Damn hot?” He smiled and leaned in closer. 

 

“Yeah.” His lip curled up a little with my answer. “How traditional did you go this evening?” I let my eyes sweep from his face to his kilt then back up.

 

“I told you before that I’m a traditional kind of guy.” He leaned down to my ear, and his next words were a warm whisper. “You can check though, if verification is necessary.” He moved back to just looming over me.

 

I dragged my fingers up the backs of his thighs until I got to all the naked tradition. “Well, Merry Christmas Dean Winchester.” I used to be smooth, or so I told myself. I suddenly forgot what I should be doing. Instead, I just kept holding his ass, and staring up at him. Maybe he’d make a move. That would really help.

 

He reached down and began pulling my shirt up over my head. I had to let him go, so that this move would be successful. My hat got knocked off onto the bed. It hardly mattered at the moment. “Well, Merry Christmas to me,” Cas said. And that was apparently enough to spur a bit more action for both of us.

 

As he was still standing between my legs, I felt that certain things were calling to me. Lifting his kilt a bit seemed reasonable, and the view was encouraging. Cas was hard. Kissing him also seemed reasonable, but beginning at his knees seemed like the right place to begin. It was a teasing move that might just be a good bit of payback for all of the hair tugging and growled flirting that I’d had to endure. 

 

His hands came up to the back of my head. I kissed the inside of his thigh, first one then the other. I moved slowly, like there was no reason to hurry toward anything. We had all night, and maybe we even had beyond that. Of course, we’d gotten pretty close before and were interrupted. This is probably not the time to go slow. Looking up at him though was convincing. There was gentleness and adoration in his eyes. 

 

Pulling him closer, licking a long stripe up his length, taking him in, this was a reward deeply felt. His fingers curled into my hair. He held tight and let out a deep moan of satisfaction. His muscles in his thighs were tight, and his eyes were turned down to me, singularly focused on what I was doing to him. Every one of his shaky breaths, every move of his hands on me, every twitch and involuntary thrust, made me stupidly happy. 


	14. Cas' Christmas Eve

Dean’s mouth was a real miracle. How had it taken so long to get to this point? His tongue swirled around sinfully. It was all I could do to keep from taking control of the situation a bit more. It became more and more difficult to maintain any sense of control as time passed. I eventually pulled just a little on the back of his hair. He moaned, and I felt it run through me.

 

I found words whirling around in my head, all mixed up with the pleasure of Dean. “You should take off the rest of your clothes and lay back on the bed.” Dean released me and stared up for a moment as he processed what was said. Then he hastily did as he was told. He shimmied up the bed, naked and gorgeous. The moonlight that found it’s way into the room gave him an alabaster glow that made him almost seem like he was carved from marble, a purely perfect god-like form lovingly created by the ancient masters.

 

“You gonna just look all night, or are you gonna come here?” Dean’s lips were smiling, and redder from their recent activity. He was confident and brash.  He was in so many ways my opposite, and yet the very thing that would be my complement. I could see this years down the road. It was more than this, more than just his stunning body, or devil may care attitude. It was the way his eyes looked even now. It was the way he seemed to be vulnerable and kind there.

 

“Staring is a privilege that I’ve earned.” Still, why wait? “Do you have anything in that nightstand that might be needed right about now?” I nodded to the side of the bed. Dean moved, fumbling there. 

 

“Here.” Dean handed me the lube and some condoms. I didn’t move right away to start using either of them. Honestly, I just liked looking at him. He dipped his head a little and said, “Can’t believe this is finally gonna happen.” He looked back up. 

 

I filled my hand with the lube and reached for him. The slick slide of my hand over his length was enough to send his head tipping back into his pillow. He closed his eyes and smiled. “I keep waiting for the moment to come crashing down.”

 

Dean opened his eyes. “I think we’re gonna be okay this time.” Even he couldn’t hide the little worry though from his expression.

 

“Pretty sure,” I moved my hand lower, skated over his entry, “this is the moment when a band of angels descends from the heavens singing some Hallelujah chorus just to interrupt our night.”

 

Dean squirmed a bit as I pushed in a little. “Like we’re that special. It wouldn’t be something like that. It’d be someone from one of our families.”

 

“Or the local historical society doing a midnight tour of your building.” There were many ways that I imagined our night taking a turn. This was really one of them. 

 

Dean began rocking his hips, his body squeezing around my touch. I doubled my efforts. “Cas,” he breathed out as he reached for me. “More.” And who am I to not give in?

 

He propped himself up a bit on his arms, changing the angle a little. With my free hand, I reached over and picked up his hat and set it on his head. “Better.”

 

He winked. “Howdy pardner.” He rolled his hips with each thrust of my fingers. I watched him, his eyes closed, lips curled up all pleased. I was sure that he was ready for me, but a little more of this wouldn’t hurt. Eventually he said, “Come on, Cas. Need you.” His breathing was coming out so shaky now. I gave him what he wanted. The slow, gentle slide into him, the waiting for him to adjust, the quiet moment before movement, was a little overwhelming. “You feel good,” he whispered.

 

I dipped in to kiss him. I slid an arm behind his shoulders and knocked his hat off, literally, and maybe metaphorically too. Everything was Dean. My emotions were sparking out with each move of our bodies. The crash and roll of us, the time it took to get to this, it was all worth it. It was perfect. Then Dean reached up and set his hand on my cheek in the gentlest of moves. He pulled me to him, and I rested my forehead on his. That was how we both fell over the edge. And everything after would be formed by this moment together.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean lay curled up in the crook of my arm. He wasn’t asleep, just boneless and content. I understood the feeling. I glanced over at the nightstand where the clock glowed out the time in neon blue. 3:12 am. I pressed a kiss into his hair and breathed him in. He was tracing my ribs with his fingers. It tickled a little. 

 

There was a small wrapped box sitting on the nightstand behind the clock. I’d seen it sitting there earlier, and had wondered about it. “Someone leave you a gift?” I nosed at the side of Dean’s face to get him to look toward the gift.

 

“Just Sammy. Pretty sure it’s something awful.” Dean nuzzled into me more. Now I was curious about the gift. Plus, I was pretty happy and content in this moment so I couldn’t imagine the gift being anything too worrisome. 

 

I moved a little so that I could stretch over to it. I managed to get ahold of it and set it on his chest. “You have to open it. Otherwise I’ll wonder about it all night.”

 

“Sometimes a little wonder is a good thing,” Dean muttered and started to move the present back to the nightstand.

 

I stopped his hand. “But if I stay up wondering all night, then I won’t be well rested in the morning.” Dean raised an eyebrow to me as if to say, so what. “I mean, I might not have the energy needed to do much of anything tomorrow.” I let go of his hand and settled in like I was going to try to just get comfortable for the night. “But whatever. Do what you must.”

 

“Rude.” He brought the gift back to his chest, then slipped out of my arms to sit up. I kept laying at his side, my view obscured. “Well, if you want to see it, you should sit up. It’s probably a spring loaded glitter bomb, or a box of tiny dicks, or maybe a nasty banana hammock. He has a particularly predictable sense of humor.”

 

“Those are some oddly specific possibilities you just laid out there.”

 

“Well, I’ve received each and every one of them before, so call it experience. When I came out as bi, he sent me the glitter gift. Do you know how long it takes to get glitter out?” I laughed. “Yeah, forever. You don’t get glitter out.” I pressed in close to his side and looked down at the now maybe threatening box.

 

“And the box of tiny dicks?”

 

“Yeah, that was because I made a joke at his bachelor party. Something about his height compensating for something. I don’t know. I maybe deserved the payback. He sent the gift to the shop though, and I opened it in front of my boss, Bobby. Shoulda known better.”

 

Dean was not in any hurry to open the box. He was toying with the edge of the paper. “And the nasty banana hammock?”

 

“That was after a break-up. He was trying to encourage me to get out there again. It was a little funny.”

 

“What’d it look like? Maybe you should model it.” He wrinkled his nose up at me. “What? Bet it’d look good.”

 

“I haven’t even told you the worst of it. It was a flamingo. It had long bird legs hanging off the bottom of it. I am fairly certain that it’d ruin the mood of even the most desperate of people. No one, Cas, wants to have a pink bird bobbing toward you pre-sex.”

 

“Well, now I really want to see that.” We laughed as I leaned in and pressed a kiss into his neck. “Open this. I’m even more curious now.” 

 

Dean’s fingers swept under the folds of the paper and freed the box. He seemed to hesitate, then pulled it open. I couldn’t see what was in it until he pulled it out. It was a battery powered red and blue flashing light, similar to what you’d see on a police car. Dean tipped his head back and sighed. He handed me the light. I switched it on and bathed room in the swiftly shifting colors. “Nice. Nothing like a little reminder of our very recent public indecency.” 

 

“Festive,” I offered. I set it on the other nightstand. “Is there more?”

 

Dean pulled out a set of handcuffs, setting them on my lap. Then he pulled out a note. He unfolded it and read it aloud. “Hope you see the humor in all of this. At the end of the day, I just want you to know I’m glad you’re the weird brother, and I’m happy that you seem to have found a guy that might be just right for you. Merry Christmas.”

 

“That was actually sweet.” I took the box from him and set it aside. I held up the handcuffs and said, “These might come in handy one day.” Dean looked a little surprised. “Just saying.”

 

“Kinky bastard.”

 

“Yeah, maybe a little.” I reached back and turned off the police light. I pulled Dean back down into the bed and wrapped myself around him. “Right now, sleepy bastard. Goodnight, Dean.”

 

“Night, Cas.” 


	15. Dean's June

Alex had gotten into Stanford. It was a surprise, and what I expected. I saw who she was, the genuine intellect and attitude that formed her. It was tough for her at first. She’d dated Claire clear through to graduation. They talked about breaking up with some seriousness. Long distance relationships were a lot of work. In the end they didn’t call it quits. It wasn’t that long of a distance, and there really was something there between them that needed to be held onto.

 

Claire ended up at Berkeley right along with Jack. It made things somehow easier for Cas, sending them off to the same place together. He hadn’t even known that she’d been considering Berkeley, but apparently the trip with Jack to do the campus tour, had changed her mind. This meant that holiday meals that year were full of Stanford Cal rivalries being spewed across the table. It meant that Claire and Jack would venture over to Stanford for the occasional games and Alex meet-ups and she’d venture over to Cal for the same. It was a good year for them.

 

It was also good to have Alex home for the summer, falling back into old routines like she’d never left. The greasy bag of french fries were almost done. The weekend was before us, and Cas was waiting down in the salon with Jack and Claire. 

 

“It’s about time,” Alex said. She stood up and brushed off her dress, a little blue cotton thing with a black collar and hemline. Music drifted up to us from the park that had been reserved for us. The sounds of Metallica played on a violin were particularly pleasing. I was happy to have gotten my way on that. Alex reached out to me. “Here, let me adjust your tie a little.”

 

She finished and smoothed her hands over my shoulders. “I look presentable?”

 

She smiled and said, “Yeah, you look great, Pops.” 

 

“Don’t want him to go changing his mind or anything.” We both laughed.

 

“As if.” She tossed the empty bag of fries into the open window. I picked up her bouquet of flowers from off the landing and planned to carry them down the ladder. “You know, now would be a good time to tell me that you appreciated all of our meddling.”

 

She went down the fire escape first, and I followed. We could have gone out like normal people, with the stairs and all, but when were we ever normal. I handed her the flowers. She looked lovely. Her dark hair was pulled back a little, and her eyes looked big and bright. I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I appreciate you.” I took her hand and waited for Cas to emerge from the salon.

 

A few moments passed and then there were Jack and Claire. Alex waved. “Lookin’ good Mills!” Claire called over to her.

 

Alex hollered back, “You’re lookin’ pretty good yourself!”

 

Jack gave them both a little wave. “Dad’s on his way. He’s just making a fuss over his hair.” 

 

I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered, “Come on, Cas. We got a wedding to get to!”

 

Cas came out a moment later. His suit did not match mine. It was purposeful. We viewed it as representing our relationship, one of complements not one of being exactly alike. Cas’ suit was a little garish, gold and burgundy with odd little paisley designs. On anyone else, it’d likely be hideous. Somehow, Cas made it work. I almost got him to wear the kilt, but he politely declined, saying, ‘That’s for the honeymoon.’ I couldn’t fight him on that, and I didn’t even want to.

 

“Lookin’ good, Winchester!” Cas called over to me, mimicking Claire’s call over to Alex before.

 

“You too!” And he really did. “Wanna marry me?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

The music changed and it was our cue. We walked to our respective corners and crossed the street. Our family and friends were visible now, no longer hidden behind the corner of my building. They stood when we came into view. Alex and I waited for Cas, Claire, and Jack to cross to us. When they arrived, Claire and Jack stepped away from Cas and Alex stepped away from me. 

 

Alex and Claire each took one of Jack’s arms, and they walked together to the gathering of our family. They moved down the center aisle, to the front, where they’d stand at our sides for the ceremony. Sam was accompanying the violinist on a keyboard. I gave him a nod, and he started playing a more traditional wedding song. “So, maybe huh?” I said as I raised my elbow to Cas so he could latch on for the walk.

 

“Definitely.” Cas smiled clear up to his eyes, eyes so blue I thought I’d never see anything more beautiful. How’d I get so lucky. We maybe stood there looking at each other a bit too long, because Sam started playing a bit more slowly, even adding a bit to the song, notes that normally weren’t there. I glanced at him and he nodded toward the path we needed to be on.

 

Jody was there, all newly ordained and ready to bless this union in front of all of our friends and family. Alex and Claire were looking at each other, like they were seeing something of their own futures. Then they looked to us as we stood at the start of the aisle. 

 

We’d walk this path together, say our vows, and say it began here. And some of it did, but not all of it. Some of it began when a little kid decided to see me like her dad. Some of it began when a woman who’d lost everything saw me as worthy of being saved. Some of it began when Cas wore that kilt. And some of it began with the start of all things. In the end it didn't matter where it began, just that it did.

 

I looked to him, and together, we took the first step. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for any kudos you feel like leaving and any kind words. You can also find me on Tumblr under the name [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/) or more often on Twitter under the name [Spearywrites](https://twitter.com/spearywrites)


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